


Feel So Paper Thin

by Tiofrean



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Abortion, Alexandria Safe-Zone, Alpha!Aaron, Alpha!Abraham, Alpha!Daryl, Alternative Universe - Omegaverse, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood, Blow Jobs, Bonding, Canon Compliant (Mostly), Developing Relationship, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Hurt!Rick, Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, M/M, Mating, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Nightmares, Omega!Reg, Omega!Rick, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Season 5 Rewritten, Trauma, Violence, alpha!Morgan, tokophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-13 02:04:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 118,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15353808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiofrean/pseuds/Tiofrean
Summary: Rick’s meeting with the Claimers results in him being raped by Joe and his gang. In the aftermath, the broken omega leader tries to pick up the shards of his life and put them back together. With Daryl and his whole family at his side, Rick feels he can overcome the trauma and continue on their journey to find a new home. Unfortunately, the violent attack he has been a victim of has left him with something that threatens to crush him for good.Can Rick recover?(Spoiler alert: I’m a sucker for happy endings.)





	1. Within the sound of silence

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been writing this fic for the last six months. It started as a statement fic against people’s idea about pregnancy, and women’s stereotypical obligation to carry and give birth to children. Then it turned into a 250+ pages monster fic with a lot of statements. Here they are.  
> \- Rape is a horrible experience and all my love goes to the victims - you’re strong and you can make it!  
> \- Nobody is obligated to carry and give birth to children - if someone tells you otherwise, punch them in the face.  
> \- Magical dicks don’t exist, deal with it. Recovery takes time.
> 
> This fic became something very personal to me. It’s fair to say that Rick’s issues are my issues in general, so writing this was like dragging myself through a personal hell sometimes. That being said, if you want to comment on the content or the writing, have some suggestions, want to scream at me or just talk, please do. I’ll be happy to read all your thoughts, especially because the topic is heavy. 
> 
> Last, but not the least - this fic had several beta-readers. It was beta’ed in its entirety by [MermaidSheenaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MermaidSheenaz/pseuds/MermaidSheenaz), to whom I owe big thanks for working with me on it - love ya! <3\. (God works in mysterious ways, Darling, especially that one fucker, as we well know.) The first four chapters were additionally beta’ed by [SheriffsRevolver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheriffsRevolver/pseuds/SheriffsRevolver) and [Sorran](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorran/pseuds/Sorran) \- thank you so much guys! Not only for the beta work, but also for all the support I got from all of you during the writing of this fic <3 <3 <3 
> 
> A thank you and a dedication to one crazy god, who likes to fuck up my life daily. Thanks for that, too. 
> 
> The fic is finished, beta’ed and wrapped up in a bow, and will be posted every day (if something goes wrong, then the new chapter will be there as soon as possible). 
> 
> Enjoy!

_Claimed._

That little word was running over and over in Daryl’s head as he struggled against the hold Joe’s men had on him. _Claimed._ Like a fucking animal. _Claimed…_

Daryl struggled anew, hearing the whimper that tore itself out of Rick’s throat. It was raw and helpless, escaping through gritted teeth, and Daryl bit his own lip till it bled, trying to break free and kill each and every one of them. They hurt Rick.

_They hurt Rick._

 

-&-

 

“Ya can’t see yerself, he can,” Daryl gruffed, handing Rick a piece of wet cloth. Rick took it absentmindedly, hissing when it caused him to lean forward a bit and shift his body weight. He was sitting on the hard ground and the alpha inside Daryl bristled, seeing this. All his instincts screamed at him to protect Rick, to take care of him, tuck him into a bed and wrap him in a thick blanket and just stay close, keeping watch.

But Daryl knew Rick wasn’t that kind of an omega - wasn’t one to seek protection from alphas. He was their leader, even if he hadn’t wanted to be, not really, not at the beginning. People had put him in this position because they could, because he made sense.

Because he had posed as a beta.

Then Rick’s suppressants had run out and they had learned the truth. It hadn’t been as ugly as he had expected. Lori and Carl - the two people left that had known about it from the start - had  kept Rick’s side firmly. Any protests that their group might have had, had been quickly silenced after they had found the prison. Sometimes the alphas would look funny at him, half in hesitation and half in interest, but Rick never paid them any attention. Not when Daryl’s attitude hadn’t changed and he remained as loyal as ever. Maybe because of that, Rick had remained the same. Their fearless leader, the family man who would do everything to protect his pack. It had been what drew Daryl to him, what had made him fall in love with Rick. The alpha in Daryl had found his mate in Rick and he had promised himself to always keep the man safe, even if they hadn’t been together.

He had failed. He had failed and now, Rick was sitting outside the car, cleaning blood from his face and beard, knuckles open and still bleeding. He winced with every move, and Daryl tried not to let his eyes drift to Rick's backside, to the dark stain on his jeans Daryl knew was there. Rick had to be in pain, something that was clear as a day for someone who had spent the last couple of months at his side. Daryl was just happy that Michonne and Carl had been herded into the car and locked up there, not having to see what those assholes had done to Rick. Carl hadn’t had to...

But Daryl _had_ seen it, and it made his blood boil even now, almost seven hours later. Had Rick not gone all hulk on Joe, had Daryl not finally struggled free and killed each of the Claimers he could lay his hands on… Daryl would happily hunt down every last one of them and tear their hearts out with his bare hands. As it was, they were all dead.

And Rick was still trembling, sitting next to the car.

 

-&-

 

Rick groaned quietly, biting his lip to muffle the sound. He had finally heaved himself up from the cold ground, prompted as he had been by Daryl talking about what an exposed spot they had been in. Rick knew that - the middle of the road was hardly a good place to camp.

They moved on. Rick’s feet knew what to do, even if his body protested his every move. His muscles hurt, his skin felt raw and his… Rick shook his head, taking a calming breath. He had to keep it together. He had Carl, Daryl, and Michonne with him - he needed to keep his head on straight.

Even if he could still feel his jeans being wet and cold.

_Even if he gritted his teeth with every step._

Thankfully, nobody commented on what had happened. They just moved on. Collected their stuff and walked along the road, Michonne leading the way with Carl at her side, Daryl keeping close to Rick a few steps behind them.

They found a house a few hours later. The sun was still high in the sky, but Daryl immediately declared it good to hole up for the night. They cleaned it out and boarded up the windows, intent on staying there for a bit. Michonne set to starting a fire in an old fashioned fireplace that was squished in one corner of the small living room. Daryl took Carl and went to set some snares.

Rick went to the kitchen and just stood there for a long time.

 

-&-

 

_“What a nice smell you have!” The man said, leering at Rick, leaning in closer and pressing his nose into Rick’s neck. He wanted to flinch back, to twist away from this sleazy fucker, his alpha scent settling over Rick’s senses like a thick, suffocating fog, but he couldn’t. Not with a gun pressed to his temple and another one pointed at Michonne._

“Rick,” Michonne’s voice was gentle, but it startled Rick so badly he jumped. He whirled around, looking at her with wide eyes. She stood in the doorway, her soft gaze focused on Rick’s face and Rick had the most irrational thought to hide, cover himself up with _something, anything…_ It was ridiculous and he knew that, he was fully dressed, after all, jeans, jacket - the whole assemble. It didn’t help with the cold shiver running down his spine. Rick took a steadying breath and nodded at her.

“I found this…” she said, voice barely above whisper, even if they were alone in the house. She walked up to him and placed something on the table, before she turned around and marched out of there. Rick looked down, swallowing heavily, seeing a small tube of ointment. It was white and the label was torn off at the middle, not that Rick could recognize the brand anyway. He didn’t really need to - he knew well what it was for. He opened his mouth to say something to Michonne’s retreating back, but no words came out.

He took the tube and pushed it into his pocket, gritting his teeth when the step he had taken to reach it resulted in pain shooting up his spine.

 

-&-

 

The day was quiet. Their family - _what was left of their family_ \- huddled up close to the fireplace. Michonne cooked a stew from the rabbits Carl and Daryl had brought back from the forest. Daryl and Carl were playing cards, something Rick was grateful for - he didn’t want any attention directed his way. It was a startling realization - he had never been one to feel shy or self-conscious when people looked at him - but Rick took it in stride. He just wanted to sit on the dusty couch and not be bothered, and thankfully, everyone seemed to understand that.

They ate in near-silence, unspoken words hanging heavy between them, ready to suffocate if they gave them half a chance. Rick didn’t. He ate the bowl of stew that Daryl had shoved into his hands. He kept on eating even when he didn’t feel like it, bile rising in his throat with every mouthful. It wasn’t the stew - for something prepared from rabbits, a handful of leaves, twigs and a pinch of salt for flavoring, it was actually delicious. It was just that Rick’s hands still shook whenever he tried to use cutlery, fingers fatigued after clenching his fists too tightly. Every little twitch of Rick’s wrist brought back images of Joe to his mind and tightened his guts painfully. He took a deep breath and kept on eating, fighting his rebelling stomach every step of the way.

Daryl watched him, content that Rick was eating something, even if he could see him cringing all throughout the meal. Rick’s hands twitched, fingers clenching around the spoon, and Daryl couldn’t help but wince. Those same fingers had scrambled for purchase on the hard tarmac last night, trying to find enough leverage to escape. Daryl felt a cold shiver traveling down his spine at the memory. He quickly finished his own portion and got up, wandering further into the house.

The alpha inside him wanted to care for Rick, even if he knew any display of affection right now wouldn’t be welcome. He checked the bedrooms - all three of them, tiny and almost squished in the old house - picking the one that seemed the most secure. It was just an illusion, the whole house was safe enough to spend a few nights in, but Daryl’s instincts told him this particular one _looked_ comfortable. It had a bed in one of the far corners, pushed against two walls without windows. There were cartoonish posters hanging above it, but it didn’t look like the previous occupant had been a child, more like a teenager. The colors were neutral and somehow soothing in their varying shades of blue.

There was a chest of drawers opposite the bed, just under the only window in the room. Daryl browsed through it, finding mostly skinny jeans and tight t-shirts. _Fucking teenagers._ He scoffed, ready to close the drawer, when his fingers encountered something soft. He grabbed the item and pulled it out. It was a pair of sweatpants, two sizes bigger than the rest of the clothes, clearly meant for colder days. Daryl folded them back and placed them on the bed.

He walked out of the room, briefly considering leaving his crossbow next to the door to alert Michonne and Carl about his plan, but decided against it. If something happened, he’d like to have his weapon with him, not lying on the floor two rooms away. Daryl took his red bandana out of his pocket and tied it loosely to the door handle. He knew Michonne and Carl would consider this bedroom taken and he knew they would understand why. During the months spent in prison together, they had learned to read each other without difficulties.

Bandana in place, Daryl moved to the bathroom, intent on finding something useful.

 

-&-

 

By some kind of silent agreement, they all decided to stay in the house for a few days, before continuing along the tracks. Terminus sounded like a good place to go, at least until they figured out what to do next. Daryl watched as Carl got sleepy, the exhaustion of the previous night catching up with him. Michonne took it upon herself to get him to bed, stating that she’d sleep in the room with him to keep them safe just in case. Daryl nodded and waved them goodnight, staying with Rick in the living room.

They sat there for a long time, Rick staring into the slowly dying fire and Daryl watching him like a hawk. He could almost taste Rick’s scent, its omega sweetness nowhere to be found, soured with anxiety and stress. There was something off about it, too, but Daryl couldn’t really put his finger on it, so he ignored it for now. There were more important things to take care of.  
“Ya should get some rest,” he prompted quietly, but Rick just shook his head silently and kept staring into the flames.

Silence fell over them again, interrupted only by deep inhales when Rick looked like he might start talking. But he never did, the air rushing out of him after a few seconds, before he went still again. The only thing moving were his hands - fingers twitching, picking at the fabric of his jeans, fingernails scratching obsessively over a few spots where mud had been smeared on the denim. The alpha inside Daryl told him to do something, to move to Rick and wrap his arms around him and hold him close. He reached out with one hand, placing his fingers gently on Rick’s hands, stopping their shifting.

Rick startled and looked at him, eyes half-wild.  
“We found water and there’s something to wash up with in the bathroom,” Daryl stated, trying to keep his voice level. Rick looked down, then nodded. They got up slowly and Daryl resolutely ignored the way Rick cringed when his body was moving. He steered Rick to the bathroom, showing Rick a bucket of water Michonne had retrieved from the pump at the back of the house earlier. Then, he walked out, giving Rick some much needed privacy, and went to snatch the sweatpants he had left in the bedroom. Once he got there, he sat on the bed for a while, letting Rick clean up in peace.

When Daryl returned to the bathroom, it was almost half an hour later. He had stayed close in case Rick needed his help, but the only sounds inside were some shuffling and splashing. Then everything fell quiet and Daryl knocked tentatively on the door. Getting no answer, he knocked again and slowly turned the handle, opening the door.

Rick was standing in front of the sink, arms braced wide against it. He was still wearing his jeans, zipped and buttoned up, but the belt was unbuckled, and his t-shirt was balled up in the sink, wet and gritty. He didn’t say a word when Daryl stepped in and closed the door behind him with a soft click, he only heaved in a few deep breaths, chest expanding with their force. Daryl’s eyes went to his ribs, mottled black and blue, bruised badly enough to hurt. He winced when one of Rick’s breaths ended up in a small whine.

“Rick…” he started, but broke off when Rick visibly shook, bowing over the sink a little, eyes squeezed shut, jaw tightening. And then Rick uncoiled, snarling, one hand lashing forward. His fist connected with a mirror hanging above the sink and it shattered, falling down in a rain of glittering shards.

“Rick,” Daryl tried again, taking a step forward, but Rick moved away, his back hitting the wall behind him. He stood like this for a moment, gulping in air, eyes unseeing, until something in him finally gave. His knees buckled and he slid down the wall, landing on the floor with a thud, cringing and biting his lip. He drew his knees up to his chest and curled up, hair falling over his face and shadowing it from view.

Daryl moved then. He walked to Rick slowly, purposefully stepping louder to alert him. He sat down next to him, leaving just enough space between their bodies not to make Rick feel threatened. He knew Rick could probably smell his scent, the protectiveness in it mixing with all the love Daryl felt for this man, and he hoped that it would calm Rick, even if only a little.

 _“I can feel them.”_ Rick’s voice was so low Daryl had to really strain his ears to hear it. “I can still feel them… I could _smell_ them when I…” Rick trailed off with a sob and Daryl closed his eyes. He felt so helpless, his instincts twisting his guts painfully. He was still holding the sweatpants he had brought, and he fisted his hands in the soft material, banging his head on the wall behind him.

“How bad?” Daryl asked finally, needing to know, needing to make sure his friend was alright. Knowing what he’d hear, anyway.  
“Still bleeding,” Rick mumbled into his knees, throat tight.  
“Should find some meds...”  
“Yeah.” Rick breathed out. He didn’t move.  
“Found these.” Daryl took the sweats and placed them gently next to him, then heaved himself off the floor. “Leave t’ jeans ‘ere.”

He made to walk out of the bathroom, intent on leaving Rick to compose himself, but a huff of laughter stopped him. It was hollow and lacked any cheerfulness - just an ugly, ironic thing that broke out of Rick and rang in the small bathroom.  
“You’re not gonna wash my clothes,” Rick scoffed at him, finally looking up at Daryl, eyes reddened and glassy.  
“Yeah, I am.” Daryl shrugged. “Ya don’t have to do everythin’ alone,” he rasped and walked out, heading to the bedroom. Once he got there, he left the door open and grabbed a flashlight from his backpack, turning it on and twisting it so that it shone on the wall, illuminating the room in a soft glow.

When out on a run, they stuck to the buddy system down to sharing sleeping quarters. It wasn’t a surprise then that Rick joined him another half an hour later, stepping tentatively into the bedroom, looking around. He spotted Daryl sitting on the floor, on makeshift bedding made of old blankets and a throw pillow from the couch they had commandeered earlier. The bed was empty, a thick duvet folded down, inviting Rick in. He sat on the mattress, looking down at the sweatpants he was wearing. Daryl’s hand holding his winged vest appeared in his line of vision and Rick frowned.  
“Ya’ll get cold,” Daryl explained, handing him his vest. Rick knew he wouldn’t, not with the thick duvet that was lying behind him.

He took the vest anyway, threw it over his shoulders and stretched out on the bed.

He fell asleep so fast, he didn’t hear Daryl getting up and padding to the bathroom softly, nor did he hear how Daryl scrubbed at his jeans and t-shirt to get the bloodstains out. Rick opened his eyes only for a second when a noise woke him from his slumber, looking around confusedly, before he drifted off again. Daryl’s crossbow was propped up against the wall near his nest of blankets, and Rick knew that the hunter couldn’t be far.

Daryl’s quiet crying went unnoticed as he washed Rick’s clothes, watching the water turn pink.


	2. Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the responses! They blew me away :) I hope I won't break your hearts too much. That being said, grab the tissues! <3

The next day brought Rick turning and twisting in the sheets, the rustle waking Daryl up before the first rays of sunshine had even had the opportunity to flood the room. He sat up quickly, eyes immediately shooting to Rick. His hands were clenched in the covers, anchoring him as his whole body shook with the force of whatever nightmare caught him. 

“Rick?” Daryl kept his voice just loud enough to be heard. He got up when it didn’t work and Rick remained asleep. Daryl went to Rick, placing one hand on his shoulder and squeezing. That helped finally and Rick’s eyes snapped open, his first move being to shift away from Daryl’s hand, so Daryl dropped it without a comment.

“‘s alright, ‘s just me,” Daryl soothed, not really knowing what else to do. Rick looked half-wild for a second, gaze jumping around the room until it settled on Daryl.   
“Daryl?” He asked, as if in surprise, before he gave a sigh and settled back on the bed. Daryl sat next to it on the floor, watching as Rick dragged one hand over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose.   
“Wanna talk?” God knew Daryl wasn’t ready to have a conversation about it, but if Rick needed it, then he would do it.   
_“No,”_ Rick stated quietly, but his voice had an edge to it that clearly marked the topic as closed. Daryl wasn’t sure if he felt worried or relieved. Rick’s record of topics that hadn’t been discussed was an ugly thing full of bear traps and pits filled with corpses, but Daryl couldn’t really blame him for trying to avoid it either.

When Rick heaved himself up and sat down on the bed, Daryl could see just how bad he looked. Daryl’s winged vest was hanging from Rick’s shoulders, revealing a splatter of bruises on his front, showing even more when Rick carefully took it off and handed it back to Daryl with a quiet “thanks”. His hands had a jitter to them - brought on by stress or pain, Daryl couldn’t really tell - and his body moved in a way that screamed at Daryl that something was wrong with him, even if Rick tried his best to cover how his muscles ached.

Daryl knew this game well. He had had enough of that when he was growing up, the motto of _fake it till you make it_ a prominent part of his childhood. He thought briefly about calling Rick out on it, feeling in his gut that it would be better to just face it and try to move on, but Daryl couldn’t really do it. Not when Rick’s eyes still looked like they could start shining with tears at any moment, and certainly not with how Rick bit his lip when he was standing up to keep any noise inside. Daryl knew he needed to play into this game, even if he hated it.   
“How are ya feelin’?” He asked, eyes following Rick as he shuffled through the room to where their backpacks were.   
“I’m fine.” Rick’s brush-off was so casual it would have been believable, if it hadn’t been for how it had come out through gritted teeth. Daryl watched him browse through the pack and retrieve something from it, before Rick went to the bathroom, dragging his feet all the way.

Daryl knew Rick wasn’t fine, and he had a sinking feeling on just how _not fine_ the situation could get soon. He got up from the floor and walked to the kitchen, looking for Michonne. He thought she would be awake already - old habits die hard, and keeping an eye on everyone had pretty much been their shared habit ever since the prison. He wasn’t disappointed.

Michonne was sitting at the table, fingers wrapped around a chipped mug filled with what looked like tea. She nodded at him as he sat in one of the empty chairs.   
“How is he?” Michonne asked, voice hushed. Daryl shrugged then shook his head.   
“Ya got any meds?” Daryl asked instead, knowing Michonne would follow his train of thought without problems. Her expression changed, a flicker of something dark crossing her features, something that looked like anger flashing in her eyes, before she reigned herself in.   
“No. I gave him a tube of ointment I found, but I don’t know if it’ll work,” she told Daryl quietly. The hunter nodded - that must have been what Rick had pulled out of the backpack earlier.

Daryl was aware that whatever ointment it was, even if it was the best the whole fucking humanity had at curing piles, it wouldn’t help Rick in the long run. Not after the alphas in Joe’s group had knotted him just to pull out and make space for the others, tearing Rick’s flesh in the process. Rick was badly wounded, and the best course of action now would be to get him some antibiotics and hope they would be enough.   
“‘m goin’ on a run,” Daryl rasped out, standing. His stomach rumbled and he winced. Michonne snorted.   
“Eat something first. There’s some cereal in the cupboard over the sink.” She pointed at the place and Daryl went over there, grabbing a pack of something that looked much like wood shavings. He picked up a clean-looking bowl from the counter and threw some in, poured water over them and sat back down at the table.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Michonne asked. Daryl had to swallow the mouthful he was chewing on before replying.   
“Nah. Ya should stay ‘ere with Rick and Carl, keep an eye on ‘em,” he explained, eating some more. The cereal tasted like shit, but it was still food.   
“You sure?”   
“Yeah. Gonna be quicker this way. Ain’t gonna go far, either. There was this shop we passed on our way ‘ere. I’ll check it out.”   
“Alright,” Michonne agreed. Daryl knew she would stay and keep an eye on things even if she wanted to go with him.

If women had been able to present as alphas or omegas, Michonne would be a fine alpha. She was fiercely protective of her family, always looking out for them, keeping them safe and happy, or as happy as she could. Daryl had liked her since the beginning, accepting her as a part of his family as soon as she had come through. And he knew he could trust her, his instincts telling him she was the one person who would do everything to make sure they survived. Daryl’s alpha had trusted her instantly and treated her as his second-in-command for a long while now.

“I’ll be back in the afternoon. Will check t’ snares we had put up with Carl yesterday, get us some dinner,” Daryl gruffed out, standing up. He went to the bedroom to get his crossbow, noticing that Rick was still in the bathroom. Daryl hesitated whether he should alert Rick, feeling that just disappearing would be wrong, no matter that Michonne and Carl would still be in the house. He settled on knocking and letting Rick know he was going on a run, getting a quiet ‘okay’ for an answer. Daryl stood in front of the bathroom door for a moment longer, crossbow in hand. He didn’t know why, but his instincts were pulling him inside, the alpha in him trying to get to the omega and check whether he was alright.

He shook his head and made his feet move.

 

-&-

 

Rick had been in pain since the day before, but it had gotten a bit better during the night. It had surprised him then, when he had woken up and felt sharp stabbing jolts shooting up his entire body. No matter which way he moved or how still he tried to be, the pain was there, reminding him of what had happened, almost as if his body was set on driving him crazy.

And so, Rick had gotten out of bed and retrieved the little tube that Michonne had given him. He hadn’t really wanted to brush Daryl off like he had, but he hadn’t been ready to talk either. He had gotten into the bathroom and closed the door behind him, resting his back on it for a few moments. Only when Daryl’s steps had faded down the hallway, Rick had breathed out a sigh of relief.

His hands were surprisingly steady when he pulled down the sweatpants, feeling a bit calmer when he spotted only a bit of blood smeared on the inside. There hadn’t been enough of it to seep through the thick fabric so he could wear them a bit longer. They were loose around his frame and kept him warm without restricting his movement. They were too soft to feel like armour - something his jeans were good for - but he knew the tight denim would be too irritating wrapped around his body. His eyes searched his trousers automatically, even as he tried to balance his body enough to step out of the sweatpants.

His shirt was thrown on a rack, the jeans right next to it, the denim spread out wide to let it dry as quickly as possible. Rick reached out with one hand, fingertips brushing over the material. It was still damp and cool to the touch, and he reluctantly withdrew, picking the sweats up from the floor and placing them on the washer that was standing in the corner. It hadn’t slipped his attention that his jeans were basically spotless and Rick made a mental note to thank Daryl for that later.

Using the toilet in his condition proved to be a whole new nightmare in and of itself. It took all he had not to whine like a wounded animal all through it, taking calming breaths when fresh waves of pain assaulted him. After he was done, he promised himself he would eat less and drink more, just to avoid anything like this happening again. He knew they shouldn’t be wasting whatever water they had, but there was a fresh bucket of it standing nearby and Rick felt a ton lighter when he used half of it to flush the bloody mess down.

He walked to the sink, cleaned himself gingerly, using a towel that Daryl must have set out for him earlier. It was dark, almost black in color, and Rick would have smiled warmly at how thoughtful that was, had it not been for the way his hands started to shake again and his gut twisted with images flashing through his mind. Every touch of his own fingers brought on a new bout of nausea, making him clench his other hand on the edge of the sink lest he fall down. There was so much blood still. Somewhere at the back of his mind, Rick’s police training was rattling on about how blood always colored everything crimson, even if the amount wasn’t that big.

It didn’t help a bit.

Just when he was almost done, the water no longer turning pink when he washed his hands off, there was a knock on the door.  
“I’m gonna go on a run.” Daryl’s voice reached him through the door and Rick nodded, before he realized Daryl couldn’t see him.   
“Okay,” he said, as loud as he could without his throat tightening up. There was a long pause before he heard Daryl walking away. Rick’s whole body shivered and he almost called Daryl to get him to come back, but he resisted. It would be ridiculous to keep Daryl there, even if that would make Rick feel better in some irrational way. He couldn’t really ask the hunter to stand guard outside the bathroom door.

With a sigh, Rick finished his cleanup, wincing when he spotted blood still coming. There wasn’t a lot of it, but it was there, and it unsettled Rick enough to make him look for the tube he had gotten from Michonne. Unscrewing it, feeling a nasty shiver crawling its way up his spine when he took in the applicator, Rick set to using it. He felt proud of himself when he managed not to shout when the first touch of the ointment burned like actual fire. He breathed through it, until the sensation turned into a strange buzz, before it faded away. Testing his range of motion, Rick pulled the sweatpants on gingerly, glad the urge to throw up had left him. He picked up his t-shirt - the thin material had dried completely by now - and put it on.

 

-&-

 

It took Daryl some time to get to the shop he had mentioned to Michonne. It was an old convenience store, weathered down by time and the apocalypse itself, but it still managed to stay standing right next to the country road Daryl had followed up here. He stepped inside cautiously, crossbow raised and ready to fire if anything as much as twitched within his line of vision, but the place was quiet.

Daryl went through the shop quickly, taking with him whatever was useful. There wasn’t anything that was produced for the purpose of surviving the end of the world, but he could always improvise. He grabbed a bedsheet, intent on turning it into bandages later because there was always a shortage of those. Daryl picked up a few packets of old ramen, knowing it would be stale, but he knew better than to dismiss any food. He found one can of coffee and he took it, too, but that was about it. Nothing he could bring back and give Rick, no _meds_ he so desperately needed, even if he tried not to show it.

Daryl cursed and walked out of the shop. He was ready to leave, maybe find another location further down the road, when something caught his attention. There was an additional door on the side of the shop, one that Daryl had previously thought to be an extra entrance. But the layout didn’t add up in his head, now that he had seen it. He went to try and open it, just to find it locked, so Daryl tried to kick it in. It didn’t even budge, the sturdy frame holding even after Daryl threw his whole weight against it. Seeing no other way around it, hoping nobody had locked walkers inside, he looked around for a piece of wire. He was a bit rusty on picking locks, not having done that since he had been a kid and hanging out with Merle, but he hoped for the best.

It took him almost half an hour to get the door to cooperate. Once the lock finally gave, Daryl jumped back, grabbing his crossbow and aiming it at the entrance, but it was quiet inside. He pushed the door open carefully. The little room was empty of walkers, but the loot was there. Daryl spotted a pack of cigarettes on an old, dusty desk. He grabbed it and pocketed it instantly, pulling open the desk’s drawer in search for more. There weren’t any, but an old tin box drew his attention. Daryl picked it up and shook it, hearing something rustle inside. Upon opening, his breath caught in his chest. He picked the blister of pills up gingerly, turning it around and reading the label.

_Doxycycline._

Feeling ten pounds lighter, Daryl threw the whole box inside his backpack. There was enough doxy to fight off a serious infection and it settled Daryl’s nerves for the time being. He looked around the little room, finding some odds and ends here and there, grabbing what looked good, before he left.

 

-&-

 

When Rick walked into the kitchen, he spotted Michonne sitting at the table. She smiled at him and beckoned him closer, pushing a mug of something that Rick supposed was tea towards him. He sat down gingerly, pretending not to see how Michonne stopped herself from wincing in sympathy. He didn’t want pity and he still didn’t want anyone’s attention directed at him. Had there been other spots to sit in the kitchen, he would have picked one of them.

“Daryl went on a run,” she said by way of greeting. Rick found himself nodding.   
“I know, he told me.” He took a sip from the mug. The tea was hot, and even if it was watery, it still tasted vaguely like earl gray.   
“How are you feeling?” Michonne asked after a moment, her sharp eyes watching him like a hawk. Rick shivered.   
“I’m fine. Carl up yet?” He tried to change the topic. He knew Michonne was concerned about his wellbeing, but being asked about it all the time did little to calm him. Michonne caught on the way he steered the conversation in another direction and didn’t try to bring it up again.   
“I think Carl’s still asleep. You can check on him, though.” She sipped from her own mug. Rick shook his head minutely.   
“Let him sleep. He needs it.”

But Carl didn’t. He appeared in the doorway about five minutes later, awake but still yawning. He padded softly into the kitchen and sat down next to Rick, looking from him to Michonne.   
“Morning,” he mumbled.   
“Sleep well?” Michonne asked, grinning. Carl threw her a look from under his fringe.   
“You snore,” he accused, but there was a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. Michonne just laughed aloud and stood up.   
“I’m gonna go and get some more water. Daryl said he’ll bring back something for dinner,” she explained, making her way out of the kitchen. Rick followed her with his eyes until she walked out of the house.

“How are you feeling?” Carl’s voice was low but clear in the silence around them. Rick looked back at him.   
“I’m fine,” he lied, feeling like shit for doing so. Carl just stared at him for a long time, before he nodded, taking Michonne’s chipped mug and going to the counter to fill it with the leftover water. He sat back at the table, drinking quietly. Just when Rick started to feel comfortable with the silence around them, Carl spoke again, voice filled with the kind of determination Rick had only caught glimpses of before.

“I know you’re not fine,” Carl said, eyes focused on the mug between his palms.   
“Carl…”   
“I know what happened. I didn’t see… but I know what happened.” Rick’s throat tightened. Carl’s words were like a punch to the gut he could really do without. It was wrong… it was so fucking _wrong_ that Carl knew exactly what had happened. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. Rick just shut it again, and Carl went on.

“Michonne tried to shield me… but I could hear. I heard them talking about you and about what they were doing. I heard…” Carl closed his eyes here and Rick didn’t really need him to finish that sentence. He knew what his son had heard. Rick took a deep breath and curled his hands into fists where they were still lying on the table. Carl continued, “I’m glad they’re dead. I would have killed them all if I could have,” he said, unaware of what was going on inside Rick’s head. “You didn’t deserve that… nobody deserves that...” he trailed off and looked up at Rick.

Rick was barely holding himself together. Carl’s little speech had brought him back to that night and he fought with all he had not to let himself sink into _that_ again. He tried closing his eyes, but the laughing faces were there, mocking him and making his hair stand on end, so he opened his eyes again, taking his son in. Carl was just sitting there, gazing at him with his blue eyes that were filled with so much warmth Rick suddenly felt like crying.     
“Hey… come here,” he whispered, biting back the tears and ignoring how his voice cracked. Carl leaned over and Rick wrapped his arms around him, hugging him close. Carl’s scent was comforting, the smell of family hitting Rick’s nose and settling his nerves.   
“I love you, Carl,” Rick breathed out into his hair, pressing a small kiss there.   
“Love you, too, dad,” Carl mumbled into Rick’s t-shirt and Rick just held him that bit tighter.

 

-&-

 

It was early afternoon when Daryl returned. He walked into the house carrying two rabbits, feeling pleasantly warm when Carl greeted him with a huge, brilliant smile that made him look just like his father. Daryl smirked, throwing him their dinner.   
“Get ‘em skinned. Ya know how,” Daryl said over his shoulder and went further into the house. He had taught Carl what to do with game sometime during their first month at the prison. He knew the kid could handle it, and he could use the distraction it provided.

Daryl walked quietly through the house, spotting Michonne doing something in her bedroom. He nodded at her and she nodded back, before he turned and stepped into the room he shared with Rick. His friend was there, curled up on the bed, eyes closed. Daryl’s protectiveness kicked in again, instincts telling him that the omega needed his help, that he should care for him and make him feel safe. Rick’s scent was still sour with anxiety, a huge dose of something Daryl suspected to be pain mixed in it.

“Hey,” Daryl said, and Rick’s eyes popped open immediately, focusing on him. Daryl walked closer and waited for Rick to sit up on the bed before he planted his ass next to him. Back in the old days, Daryl would have just thrown the tin box at him from the doorway, confident that Rick would catch it. Now though, he felt like he was walking on eggshells. He didn’t want to startle Rick, so he took his backpack and pulled out the box, before he slowly set it on Rick’s lap. Their leader just stared at it for a long time.

“Found this on the run,” Daryl prompted, watching as Rick hesitated before opening it. When he finally did, his hands hovered over the contents, almost as if he was afraid to touch the pills.   
_“How?”_ Rick gasped, picking up one blister gingerly, turning it around in his hand. Daryl shrugged.   
“Ya needed ‘em,” Daryl explained and Rick looked up at him. His eyes were so blue, so crystal clear, Daryl thought he would die a happy man if he could just drown in them.   
“Thank you,” Rick said, voice like a whisper, low and almost cracking. Daryl just nodded. His hands itched to pull Rick to him, but he resisted, reminding himself that touch was not something Rick wanted right now. Instead, Daryl stood up and left the room, saying he needed to prepare dinner.

Rick’s eyes followed him, a wave of warmth spreading through his insides.

 

-&-

 

By the time they had the rabbits ready and in a pot, Daryl had turned every possible plan around in his head. They had to move. The house was secure enough to stay in for a few days, but the area was completely open and it would take too much effort to make it a safe place. Daryl also knew that Rick wanted to go with the original plan of following the tracks and getting to Terminus. It would be a challenging trip, especially with Rick all messed up, but Daryl couldn’t see them staying here. Catching those two rabbits had taken him longer than finding antibiotics, and that meant the game here was scarce. And all four of them needed to eat something.

Frowning down at the stew he was stirring, Daryl tried to assess how far they were from Terminus. The signs he had last seen told him it would be around a day’s worth of marching, maybe a bit more if they made stops. And they probably would, seeing as Rick was in no shape to travel long distances. Daryl would have to make sure they took frequent breaks, so he started to think up different ways to make it happen, just in case he needed an excuse later on.

There were footsteps falling softly behind him and Daryl turned, spotting Rick standing in the doorway, looking at him. Rick shifted, gaze traveling from Daryl’s face to the steaming pot.   
“Gonna be ready soon,” the hunter said, stirring the stew. Rick shook his head.   
“Nah, not hungry,” he mumbled, shifting where he stood again.   
“Ya okay?” Daryl eyed him, taking in Rick’s stiff pose.

Rick just shrugged, then took a few steps to the couch and sat down. Daryl side-eyed him from his spot, one hand still stirring the stew occasionally. Rick was silent for a long moment, staring at the fire, before he started speaking in a low voice, just loud enough to be heard by Daryl.   
“After the prison… I thought I’d never see you again… but you found us - ” Rick broke off, gaze falling to his hands. He was hunched over, elbows propped on his knees, and Daryl had the overwhelming urge to grab his dangling palms and hold them in his, give them a reassuring squeeze and then just keep on holding. He shook it off.   
“If I’d known what they were…” Daryl started but Rick interrupted him.   
“No! Daryl, that’s not on you…” Rick’s eyes shot up to Daryl’s, and the brightness the hunter saw in them made his heart stutter. “It’s _not_ on you. What they did… Daryl, it wasn’t your fault.”   
“Feels like ‘t was.” Daryl shrugged, taking the stew from the fire and putting it aside to cool down a bit. “Feels like… if I hadn’t brought ‘em to ya, they wouldn’t have done this.”   
“No.” Rick shook his head vehemently and looked at his hands again. He felt a bit restless and he started to fidget, fingers finding a scab on his knuckles and picking on it.

“Rick.” Daryl’s voice was gentle and his own hand appeared in Rick’s line of vision. Rick knew it was Daryl’s way of asking permission to touch him and it made him cringe when he realized how fragile he’d become. Daryl had been _the alpha_ for him since day one, and if Rick was to be honest with himself, he had to admit that he’d been having feelings for Daryl for a long time now. They had been close before the prison had gone bust, they knew each other better than anyone. Back in the day, Rick had used to hope they would create something one day, maybe something with that notion of stability to it, an actual relationship. He was left hanging when Lori had died, the world a cold and dark place. Daryl had been his only beam of light back then, and he continued to be one now.

It hurt to think that they would probably never have anything like what Rick wanted. Daryl had never seemed interested in this, no matter that they were alpha and omega. He had kept his distance after Lori had died. And now… now he needed Rick’s permission to _touch his hands_ and Rick felt himself shiver just thinking about it. He was messed up and he knew that. He just hoped Daryl wouldn’t leave him… ever. With startling clarity, Rick realized that he wanted - _needed_ \- Daryl close, needed him on that basic level every omega ever needed their alpha. But he was too fucking _fragile_ to let that happen.

The first touch of Daryl’s fingers to his own made Rick’s whole body jolt. The careful brush of Daryl’s fingertips brought him back to the here and now. He swallowed rapidly, trying to blink away the wetness that gathered in his eyes as Daryl’s careful fingers slipped between his. It wasn’t what Rick had expected. He thought Daryl might grab his hands and pull them apart to stop him from picking at the scab, but Daryl just wedged his hand between Rick’s palms and held it there.

“Daryl.” It was all Rick could say. Daryl shushed him and shook his head almost imperceptibly.   
“Can’t make ‘t better...” Daryl started, just the very tips of his fingers brushing over Rick’s skin. “I can’t make ‘t better where ‘t counts… but I wanna try. If ya let me…”   
“You’re already helping,” Rick choked out through his suddenly tight throat. Wetness gathered in his eyes again and started to fall down. Daryl’s hand squeezed Rick’s gently, alerting him, before Daryl moved it and took it from between Rick’s. He brought it up and carefully touched Rick’s cheek, cradling Rick’s face in his palm and swiping away the tears.

“Come on, the stew’s ready,” Daryl said, drawing his hand away. Rick shook his head and just sat there, watching Daryl gather three bowls and a plate - the rest of the crockery had already been broken to pieces when they had gotten here. They called Michonne and Carl for dinner, talking about moving on soon. Rick refused to get his bowl until Daryl thrust it into his hands.

Only after Rick actually started to eat did he notice that his bowl was mostly devoid of larger chunks of meat. He didn’t know how Daryl had worked the problem out in his head, but he was thankful for it. This way he could really eat it and not worry too much about the consequences and everyone nagging him about leaving food in his bowl. Rick threw Daryl a grateful look and dug in, only now letting himself feel just how hungry he was.


	3. Everyday the news is death

They packed up and headed out the next day. Their luggage was small and insubstantial, but Daryl still made sure to get most of it into his own backpack. He put it on his shoulders and sat down on the bed, waiting for Rick. Daryl could hear the rustling coming from the nearby bathroom, a quiet hiss here and there, a few aborted grunts... sounds that made the alpha inside him want to go and check on the omega. He resisted, fiddling with his knife, checking its sharpness, waiting for Rick to get ready.

Their leader emerged a few moments later, jeans and the suede jacket on, eyes clear. It was a relief to see those beautiful blues sharp and focused when they landed on Daryl still sitting on the bed.  
“Ready?” The hunter asked, standing up.  
“Yeah.” Rick nodded, walking into the room and picking up his gun belt. He fixed it around his hips, pushing the prongs through new holes, and Daryl made a mental note to find something more nourishing for their next meal. He knew why Rick would hesitate to eat any solids, but there had to be a way to get some calories into him in liquid form. Thinking about sugar and soda, Daryl handed Rick his bag and walked out to get Michonne and Carl.

They followed the tracks just as they had planned earlier. The weather was nice enough not to worry about looking for cover in case of rain, so they didn’t speed their walk.

 

-&-

 

They were still about five hours from Terminus - by Daryl’s best estimate - but they needed to make a stop for the night. Rick was dragging his feet, a wince becoming more prominent with every step he took. Daryl had been keeping an eye out for some kind of shelter for a while and when he finally found it, he sighed in relief. Signaling for the others to stop, Daryl went to check it out.

It was a small wooden shack, no bigger than a decently-sized living room. Daryl had a brief moment of questioning who had put it there, in the middle of nowhere, but decided to leave that conundrum for later. The shack had no doors, but the entrance was closer to one of the corners, and there could still be walkers lurking inside. Daryl decided not to risk it and held up his crossbow, walking in cautiously.

Thankfully, the only thing inside was hay. After a thorough sweep around the place that ensured Daryl there were no walkers hidden anywhere, he called the others.  
“What _is_ this place?” Rick voiced Daryl’s questions as soon as he was finished with a perfunctory perimeter check around the shack. Daryl shrugged.  
“Dunno. Looks like a place to store food fer animals or somethin’,” he explained, nodding at the hay piled up inside. Rick frowned, but walked in anyway, kicking the hay around a bit and making himself a place to sit. Daryl was thankful for the soft layer cushioning the hard, beaten ground. His protective instincts were running high and he was aware of it, the need to care for the omega making him think about hunting and starting a fire at the same time. Keep Rick warm, fed, protected… Daryl tried to shrug the feeling off, knowing he couldn’t let it cloud his mind too much.

He dug a shallow pit in the ground just outside the shack and surrounded it with stones to keep it away from prying eyes. He didn’t want to risk them getting caught by whatever could be out there in the woods, alive or dead. He started a small fire, just enough to heat up some water. He used it to prepare ramen noodles they had found on their way here. Michonne emerged just when the noodles started to get softer, and she sat down on the ground next to him, eyes fixed on their meal.  
“Rick’s asleep,” she muttered softly and Daryl nodded. Rick needed all the sleep he could get - his body and mind needed to heal. “How are you holding up?” Michonne asked.  
He shrugged. “Have it easy…”  
“No. You don’t. We don’t.” She shook her head with a frown. “Rick’s got it the hardest, but…” she sighed and Daryl could see the emotions flickering in her expression, something she rarely showed to anyone.  
“What Rick went through…” Daryl started but trailed off, throat tightening up. He couldn’t really talk about it yet. He wanted to turn back time and stop it from happening, no matter how ridiculous that sounded in his own head. He knew Rick, he was sure Rick would just try to push on now, try to put all his emotions, _all his hurt,_ behind him, bottle it all up and never let it see the light of day. Daryl knew that approach wasn’t healthy, but he couldn’t think of anything that would help and wouldn’t hurt Rick even more at the same time. He was ready to do anything Rick asked of him if it meant making Rick better, but sometimes there was no other way to do things. And Daryl was aware that in their situation, without a safe place to stay, _without the prison that had been their home,_ he couldn’t really give Rick the time he needed to heal.

“It affects you, too,” Michonne whispered, still looking at the fire pit, the low flame reflected in her eyes and making them flicker. “I know it does. I can see it. It affects all of us. Me, Carl… But mostly you.”  
“Nah. Carl’s his kid. Yer his friend.” Daryl shook his head. “‘m nothing special.”  
“You are.” Michonne glanced up at him, frowning. “We’re all family… but I’ve seen the way you look at him,” she said cryptically and Daryl could feel his body tense. Before he could examine what exactly caused that reaction, his mouth was already forming words.  
“What way?” He asked, more snappish than he supposed was called for. He decided to put that thought away for later. Thankfully, Michonne just smiled at him and looked back to the fire.  
“Like he’s holding your heart in his hands,” she stated in a voice far too level for the words she spoke. Daryl froze, then ducked his head down. It was true, he couldn’t argue with that.  
“How’d ya know?” He whispered, not really used to people getting into his private business. But Michonne wasn’t just some stranger, she was a part of Rick’s family now, a part of his pack. She was a part of _Daryl’s pack_ and he trusted her not to use her knowledge against him.

She regarded him with a curious look before answering.  
“I could see it back in the prison.”  
“‘t was a long time ago…” Daryl trailed off, thinking about all the happy moments they had all shared back then.  
“I can still see it.” She got up and dusted her pants off. “He’s got that look, too, you know? Even after all that happened…”

Daryl watched her turn and get back inside. He went back to the ramen, Michonne’s words rushing through his head like a train, rattling his brain and making him dizzy with their noise.

 

-&-

 

Getting into Terminus was just too fucking easy. Daryl hated how he had ignored his instincts in favor of a dubious promise of a safe place. The signs were all there, really, and if it hadn’t been for Rick being in such a desperate need of shelter, Daryl would probably make them all stay outside and keep a keen eye on the compound before they even decided to put one foot inside. As it was, they walked right into a trap. They clocked on pretty fast, but it wasn’t fast enough to get their asses out of the trouble.

When the door to the train car slammed behind them, it did so with finality that unsettled Daryl’s nerves.

Temporarily blinded by the sudden darkness, they reunited with their family - the one good thing that came out of this fucked up situation. There were some new faces in the crowd, but their scent had already mixed with the scent of their family, and that helped Daryl accept them in. He trusted Glenn and Maggie not to keep bad people with them.

The reunion wasn’t as enthusiastic as Daryl thought it could be. Their position was uncertain, each and every person had their own feelings about the situation they had landed themselves in. They didn’t know anything for sure, but the threat of death was hanging around them like some kind of a suffocating fog, making their voices hushed and moves twitchy. They made plans, not being able to do anything else in the near darkness around them. Plans to escape, plans to get out and _live on._

Rick was almost silent through that, though. He added some things here and there, but Daryl could clearly see the difference between how he had made plans in the past and how he acted now. He knew the rest of their close family could tell the difference, too, even if they didn’t voice their opinions. They didn’t really have to. It was clear that something was wrong with Rick, and seeing Daryl trying to ignore it made them try to ignore it, too. It was probably why nobody said anything when the night came and with it the chill that settled over them. Everyone huddled together for warmth, keeping as much body heat between them as they could. Everyone, except Rick.

Daryl watched him shuffle progressively further away from the group as the night moved on, until he was sitting on the opposite side of the train car. He looked small in the shadows surrounding him, curled up with his back to the wall. The moonlight falling through the cracks in the ceiling let Daryl see just enough to know Rick wasn’t okay. All the new people around him, _scents of new alphas invading his space_ \- it must have been hard to stand. Daryl felt a surge of protectiveness tearing through him, and before he even realized what he was doing, he was walking to Rick, steps loud enough to announce his approach.

Rick tensed for a moment when Daryl got closer, but it was just a second before he forced himself to relax again. It was Daryl - Rick knew his walk by now - and Daryl wasn’t a threat. The hunter sat down next to him, far enough not to crowd him and close enough to talk. The problem was, Rick didn’t want to talk. His head was fuzzy with fear and he desperately tried not to show it. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth, all his emotions would pour out of him in a jumbled mess of anguish, and he didn’t want _that._ The whole group still looked up to him, they had shown him that much when they had been making plans earlier. He needed to be strong. Even if it was so hard when the ground seemed to be shaking under his feet, life intent on wearing him down and shattering him into tiny pieces.

“Rick.” Daryl’s whisper dragged him out of his thoughts. Rick shook his head, still too caught up in his own thoughts to speak, even if Daryl’s presence was like a soothing balm to his distraught mind. Daryl had proved time and time again that he wouldn’t hurt him. He kept proving it even now, sitting at a distance that guaranteed Rick comfort.

Suddenly, Rick didn’t want the space between them, separating them like a strip of no man’s land. They weren’t two sides of a conflict, Daryl was his family, and so, Rick reached out with one hand, blindly seeking the alpha. When his fingers touched Daryl’s sleeve, Rick twisted them in the worn-out fabric and held on, trying to clear his mind of all unsettling thoughts. Daryl didn’t move at all, letting Rick take whatever comfort he needed from him. It took a long time, but finally Rick could feel the tension leave his body and he could breathe easier for the first time since they had been herded into the car.

Encouraged by his own reaction, Rick moved closer to Daryl, shuffling carefully on the hard floor, until he was close enough to feel Daryl’s body heat. It was calming him, seeping into his own body and Rick wanted more of it. He twisted around a bit and tentatively reached out, sneaking one hand behind Daryl’s back, bringing them closer, until they were pressed together. Daryl sat stock-still, letting Rick do as he pleased, not moving an inch when Rick placed his other hand on Daryl’s chest. The heartbeat under Rick’s fingertips was strong, soothing him and making him relax even further, so he let his head fall to Daryl’s shoulder and just breathed, inhaling Daryl’s scent. There was something in that smell that brought Rick’s mind back to the happy times of the prison, to the first carefree days they had lived through since the apocalypse had started.

He was almost dozing off, not really aware how that had happened, when the hunter shifted under him. Daryl’s arms moved slowly, carefully, and wrapped around Rick’s shoulders loosely.  
“Okay?” Daryl asked quietly and Rick froze for a second, because _yes, it was okay._ It was the first time he was in such a close proximity to anyone else than Carl since Joe had happened, and it actually surprised him how _okay_ he felt with it.  
“Yeah,” he gasped out, not trusting himself to say it aloud lest he jinx it. He closed his eyes and relaxed into his friend again, pushing away the thoughts of the past to the back of his mind. He was asleep before he knew it.

 

-&-

 

When Rick wrapped his arms around Daryl, the hunter’s first instinct was to do the same. He stomped the urge down, reminding himself that Rick may still not welcome his touch, even when the alpha inside him rebelled at how he refused to comfort the shivering omega pressed close to him.

Daryl wasn’t sure Rick even knew he was trembling.

He stayed still, breathing in deeply to calm himself a bit, listing all the reasons why he should keep his hands to himself. It was then that something registered in Daryl’s brain.

Rick’s scent was off. It was weird, and not in an unpleasant way. It was still soured by anxiety, fear of too many new faces tightening Rick’s body and making it stiff in a way Daryl could actually feel. But there was something else, something odd that became even more pronounced once Rick calmed down a little and relaxed into Daryl.

It was sweet. Flowery and fresh and it reminded Daryl of spring and the first blooming trees. Something that tickled his nose and made him want to lean down and just breathe it all in, get smothered with its sweetness and let the time trickle by as he just sat there delighted.

Daryl wondered where had the scent come from. He had never heard of omegas changing their scent like this, so maybe it was connected to what Rick had gone through? Maybe feeling relatively safe with Daryl made him relaxed to the point where his body started to rewire itself? It must have been that. The only other option would be Rick… Daryl’s eyes opened wide in the near-darkness around them when the realization hit him like a brick.

Rick was pregnant.

 _Rick_ was _pregnant._

Daryl had to swallow hard to keep himself from whining. Oh fuck… _fuck, fuck, fuck!_ Rick, his good, kind omega, their fearless leader, the man who had lived through a nightmare and kept fighting every day… he didn't deserve this. He didn’t deserve to have to deal with _this_ on top of everything else.

This time, Daryl let his instincts rule over his mind, and he wrapped his arms around Rick, asking quietly to make sure it was okay. Rick gave him the green light, so Daryl stayed like this, holding him close and trying to stop himself from squeezing Rick too tightly.

As hours went by, Rick shifted a few times, but he stayed more or less in Daryl’s arms. The hunter didn’t dare to move, sitting on his ass in the same position since Rick had hugged him that first time. Daryl didn’t know if he wanted to wake Rick up and talk to him, assure him that everything would be alright, that Daryl would take care of him and the baby, or if he wanted Rick to keep sleeping and put the new nightmare away for later…

Rick decided for him when he blinked his eyes open in the early morning light and looked at Daryl, his head cushioned by Daryl’s forearm as he lay stretched over Daryl’s lap. There was a small frown forming on Rick’s brow and Daryl forced his throat to work just enough to greet him.  
“Hey,” he croaked, his voice grating even to his own ears. He hoped everyone was still asleep. The frown deepened as Rick looked at him. Daryl knew what he saw, his eyes still burned from his silent crying sometime during the night, and he supposed there were still traces of tears on his cheeks, clean against the grime and dust on his skin.

One of Rick’s hands traveled to Daryl’s face and the fingers rubbed carefully just under his eye.  
“What’s wrong?” Rick whispered, voice hushed with sleep. It was the first night since the Claimers that he had actually slept through without waking up to his nightmares. Half-lying on Daryl must have been hellishly uncomfortable, but it seemed to do the trick. Or maybe Rick had just been exhausted from the road. Either way, Daryl felt bad for answering the question that had the potential to fuck everything up.  
“Yer scent changed,” he choked out, arms tightening around Rick instinctively. Rick’s frown deepened and he let his hand fall from Daryl’s face, placing it between them. He stared at Daryl for a long time, trying to figure out what that was about.

Daryl could see the precise moment Rick caught the meaning behind his words. His eyes squeezed shut and all air left his lungs in one, shaky exhale. And then he was shaking his head, breathing picking up.  
“No… no. No, no no no no…” Rick mumbled, shivering, and Daryl brought one hand to his head, intent on threading his fingers through Rick’s hair, but as soon as Rick sensed the movement he whimpered, curling up. One of his hands shot up, shielding his face and stopping Daryl’s attempt at comfort.

And then, Rick was drawing away, sitting up and crawling backwards, shuffling awkwardly on the floor until his back hit one of the side walls of the car. His voice got louder the further away he was and it finally woke everyone up. Daryl watched, helpless, as Rick pressed himself against the wall, almost flattening his body against it, eyes wild and unfocused.  
“Rick!” Glenn appeared on Rick’s side and made to grab Rick’s arm, and Daryl was just too frozen in place to react and warn him not to.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Rick snarled at Glenn, lashing out with his fist and catching Glenn completely off guard. He stumbled backwards and looked at Rick wide-eyed, one hand wrapped around his ribs where Rick’s punch had hit its mark.  
“Rick!” Daryl finally made his body move, getting up and walking to where Rick was huddled, kneeling in front of him. He kept his eyes focused on Rick’s making sure his approach wouldn’t startle him, before Daryl tentatively reached out with one hand, palm turned to the side, asking Rick to take it.

It took almost a whole minute, but Rick finally raised his arm, hand going to Daryl’s, touching their palms together. Their fingers immediately clasped around the other’s hand, and Rick leaned in when Daryl gave him a small tug. He pressed his forehead to Daryl’s knuckles, his other hand grabbing Daryl’s wrist and he just stayed like this, breathing erratically in and out, his heavy exhales making Daryl shiver unpleasantly. It felt almost as if Daryl was Rick’s lifeline, the edge he kept holding onto not to fall into an abyss.  
“‘s alright, ‘s okay,” the hunter murmured, leaning forward and pressing his own forehead to Rick’s hand, mirroring the omega’s position, trying not to fall apart himself. Rick needed him and crying wouldn’t do shit right now. He reached out with his other hand and threaded his fingers through Rick’s messy hair, untangling the strands and feeling Rick shiver under his fingertips.

“I can’t,” Rick gasped out when his breathing finally slowed down enough to let him talk. “I can’t do this, _I can’t…_ ” he babbled and Daryl hushed him gently, shaking his head minutely.  
“We’ll get through it,” Daryl reassured, happy his voice sounded level. He didn’t trust himself not to fall apart in that moment. “We’ll work it out. But ya have to calm down, ‘kay?” He asked softly, watching as Rick forced himself to take a few steadying breaths.  
“Daryl…”  
“Shhh… it’ll be fine. We jus’ need to get outta here first, okay?” Daryl went on, rubbing soothing fingers over Rick’s scalp. The tender touch seemed to work, for Rick visibly relaxed. Or maybe it was what Daryl said that did the trick? Either way, Rick calmed down a bit, nodding to himself and pulling away. He looked to the side, searching Glenn out in the shadows, only to be met with wide-eyed stares from their whole family.

“Get yer asses to work on the escape plan,” Daryl gruffed and scowled at them, prompting everyone to turn their gazes and get busy in record time. Everyone except Michonne and Carl. Michonne watched Daryl for a long moment, corners of her lips twitching up in something that would have been a warm smile had the circumstances been different, before she sat down and started to untie her shoes, intent on preparing herself some kind of a weapon for the oncoming fight. Carl just stood there with a frown, observing the exchange between Daryl and his father, before he walked up to them slowly. Rick looked up at him as soon as he stepped closer, and Daryl watched Rick tug him down and into a careful hug.

The hunter moved away, trying to find himself something that he could use as a weapon. _They had to get out of here._

 

-&-

 

It took Rick almost an hour to calm himself down, and even then, the thoughts of his pregnancy were a constant buzz at the back of his mind. But his head cleared enough to actually start working on some kind of a weapon, and so, Rick heaved himself up from the floor and walked slowly to the rest of his group. They all looked at him with wide eyes, apparently not expecting him to aid in their preparations. But Rick took off his jacket and tore out the zipper from one of the pockets. He knelt down by a wooden beam and started to methodically cut through it, shaping it into an improvised blade.

It came in handy just a few hours later, when they had been dragged out of the car and into the warehouse. Rick was dizzy from a swift kick to his head, the world blurry whenever he opened his eyes. He looked to his left, seeing Daryl struggling as he was pushed to his knees on the hard floor, and Rick had to focus hard not to let his memories assault him again.

_Hands on him, holding him down as he struggled to get away-_

He tried to open his mouth, but there was something stuck in it - soft and wrapping all the way around his head. Rick wanted it _out_ , but his hands were tied behind his back, and there was no way to slip them out of the bindings. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a long breath through his nose, smelling the metallic tang of blood in the air. When he opened them again and looked at Daryl, the hunter was a bit less blurry - a good sign for Rick’s head. He willed his hands to relax as much as they could and started to carefully slide out the improvised knife he had in his sleeve. There was a rustle behind him, followed by heavy steps, and Rick stilled his fingers, waiting for the man to walk away. He couldn’t risk them taking their only weapon. In the meantime, Rick tried to figure out what he was bound with. It was hard and felt like plastic, and he would bet it was a zip tie. A quick glance to his left confirmed his suspicion - Daryl, with his almost inhuman precision at reading Rick, turned slightly showing him his hands pulled tight behind his back. Zip ties were good. If Rick managed to wedge the knife between them at just the right angle, he would get the leverage needed to break free.

Rick held his head slightly turned, just enough to keep an eye on the man behind him with his peripheral vision, just enough to catch the best moment to start getting them out of here. He could see Daryl kneeling next to him, deflated, and Glenn a bit further to his left, stock-still and looking ahead.

The man behind Rick finally stepped away and Rick took out the knife, shivering. He had felt uneasy with the man standing right behind him and he suspected it had little to do with what those psychos were planning to do to them. Rick bit back the bile rising in his throat and started to work on the zip ties, watching the room with a steady gaze, trying not to draw anyone’s attention to what his hands were doing.

A man walked in suddenly - one that Rick recognized from the previous day - and started talking about shot counts. Rick frowned, trying to appear interested in the conversation. He almost groaned in relief when he managed to position the knife at a perfect angle. Now, all he had to do was to wait for the right moment to break free. It had to come soon, or he would risk losing Glenn.

“What was in the bag?” The man - _Gareth?_ \- asked and took Rick’s gag out. Rick tried to come up with an answer that would buy them all some time. It didn’t work, unfortunately, even when Rick threatened him with his red machete.

_And a machete with a red handle… that’s what I’m gonna use to kill you._

Gareth just laughed, then sneered - an edgy, sleazy thing that flipped Rick’s stomach - and walked away. Or tried to, before gunshots rang in the air and time slowed down to a crawling pace.

_More gunshots._

_Something blew up._

They all landed on their sides, the explosion enough to shake the ground and rattle the windows. Rick’s first instinct was to roll away from the possible rain of glass, but the position he was in gave him a chance at breaking the bonds. With one sharp tug of the knife, the ties came loose and he jumped up, gritting his teeth at the pain shooting through him. He couldn’t really tell where it was coming from anymore - a sharp jolt of electricity stabbing at his nerve endings and lighting up his whole body. Rick took a second to breathe through a wave of nausea and stepped forward, eyes set on the guy with the metal bat.

The man went down quickly. Rick’s wooden knife was sharp enough to stab into his jugular and kill him within moments. Rick kept on walking, his next target standing just behind the first one, staring at him, surprised into stillness. Rick lunged at him, giving him the same treatment, snarling when the piece of wood slashed the man’s throat.

Daryl watched him from his position next to the trough. Rick looked different in that moment, focused and collected, killing their captors with cold-blooded intent, hands steady as they sliced through flesh and spilled blood. Daryl didn’t feel any guilt at all when he watched the cannibals go down, he didn’t even flinch when some of their blood splattered onto the ground near his head.

And then, Rick was walking back to them, picking up a butcher’s knife as he went, scooting down next to Glenn and cutting him loose. Daryl was next, then Bob. They all picked up weapons, as many as they needed, and went out with Rick leading the way

The next half an hour was like a blur to Rick. They cut down every Termite they saw, freed their family from the train car and soon, Rick was digging for their bag of guns in the woods, mind set on going back into the compound and killing everyone that might have survived.

Rick looked up briefly, just before he took out the bag. Everyone was staring at him, looks of unease in their eyes. He frowned.  
“Go along the fences,” he ordered, picking up a gun, happy when Daryl did the same without hesitation. The hunter checked it and they both turned to the others, who were still staring. “Use the rifles, take out the rest of them,” Rick explained, getting impatient.  
“What?”  
“They don’t get to live.”

It made Rick angry that he had to walk everyone through something so simple. Those people… those _monsters_ didn’t deserve to live. They had to put them down. They would probably try to go after them, attack them, get _revenge…_  
“Rick, we got out.” _Glenn._ “It’s over!”  
“It’s not over till they’re all dead,” Rick stated, looking to Daryl. The alpha nodded at him, knowing well what his plan was. Rick stood up, checking his weapons, when the new girl - Rosita - spoke up.  
“The hell it isn’t! That place is on fire! Full of walkers!”

All of them started to talk all at once, and suddenly, Rick felt as if he was facing a wall. An angry, growling wall that chose to be stupid and disagree with him. Didn’t they see what Terminus had been about? _Couldn’t they imagine what those assholes would do if any of them got a whiff of their family in the future?_ Rick glanced at Daryl, knowing the alpha was still standing close, but Daryl wasn’t looking at him. He was half turned, staring at something behind him and Rick followed his line of sight.

 _Carol_.

Rick couldn’t believe she was real, even when Daryl sprinted towards her, wrapping her in a tight hug. Carol was here, alive and well, being held and squeezed within an inch of her life by the hunter and Rick _still couldn’t believe it._ He walked to her, his plan to kill the rest of Terminus’ survivors temporarily forgotten. Suddenly it all made sense. The explosion, the shooting… It must have been her. As Rick stepped closer, Daryl turned to him, eyes watery. It was just one look, but it made Rick feel stronger somehow. It was almost as if the alpha looked to him for _approval_.

It was almost ridiculous. Not only because of who they were or how well they knew each other, but because of how obvious it was that seeing Carol was one of the best things that could happen. Rick had regretted leaving her in that town the moment he had done it. He had come back for her, but she had no longer been there. Telling Daryl about what he had done had been one of the hardest moments in his life. And now she was here, standing and looking at him, and Rick couldn’t stop his own eyes from misting over.  
“Did you do that?” He asked, because he needed to know where they were standing.

She nodded, eyes shining with tears, and Rick couldn’t help himself. Maybe it was the night spent in Daryl’s arms that proved to Rick that he could still trust his family, maybe it was the relief of getting out of Terminus… Maybe it was just seeing Carol again, seeing that whatever choice he had made hadn’t meant death for her - Rick didn’t know. But he pulled her into a hug, feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It didn’t bother him when Carol wrapped her arms around his shoulders in return, almost shaking in his arms, emotions running high in both of them.

When they pulled away, Rick wanted to get back to his original plan of slaughtering the rest of the Termites, but Carol grabbed his hand.  
“You have to come with me.”


	4. The lengths that I will go to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the support! I love to read your thoughts, so keep the comments coming! <3 
> 
> That being said... don't forget about the tissues. And remember the tags - they say it all! Here comes the drama :)

_Judith_.

Judith was alive.

Rick didn’t even know how it had happened - one second he couldn’t believe that he was actually seeing Tyreese holding Judith and the next, Rick was hugging her close to him, placing a gentle kiss on her head. She was alive, healthy and well, bigger since the last time he had seen her, and Rick couldn’t stop his hands from shaking when he felt her wriggling in his grip, couldn’t help tearing up when she looked at him with her big, beautiful eyes. He had almost forgotten what those looked like.

Rick felt a painful jolt tearing through him when he realized that he had pushed Judith so far out of his mind that he had stopped thinking about her at all. He hadn’t been able to cope with losing her at the beginning - the carrier smeared with blood forever imprinted in his mind - and it had only gotten worse with time. When he had been in that house with Carl, when he had thought he was dying, Carl had been his only concern. Back then, Judith had already been gone, and the only way in which Rick had been able to help his son was to push thoughts of her to the back of his mind. And that was precisely what he had done, keeping the memory of her locked away in a dark corner of his heart.

And now she was here, breathing, giggling, _alive_. Rick’s own little miracle.

He looked around, wanting to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, needing to see the others’ faces to know it was actually happening. Everyone was smiling brightly, Michonne and Carol standing a bit to the side, grinning at him with warm eyes. Rick’s gaze went to Daryl almost automatically, the omega inside him wanting to show the group’s alpha all his joy.

Daryl’s eyes were soft. Rick had never seen his friend look as gentle as he did in that moment, his whole posture screaming _happiness_ at Rick, even if Daryl was still standing a few yards from them. There was something else in the alpha’s eyes, too, but Rick couldn’t really decipher it, so he decided to let it be for now. He turned his attention back to the miracle in his arms, kissing her head softly, breathing in her warm scent.

It didn’t really surprise anyone when they moved on, walking away from Terminus, Rick’s plans for a vendetta completely forgotten.

 

-&-

 

Five hours. It took them five hours to find a place decent enough to rest in. They walked away from Terminus, or as far away as they could - there were only so many paths in the woods. They were all tired and hungry, the night at Terminus too draining to keep going on that day. Daryl had been keeping an eye out for a decent shelter for quite a while, when they stumbled upon an old shack in the middle of the forest. It was small, dirty and barely holding itself together, but it had four walls and a roof so Daryl was content to check it out.

He walked in carefully, Michonne and Carl on his heels. Thankfully, the only living thing inside was a racoon, fat enough to put it into a pot right after Daryl shot it. The hunter was pretty pleased with their find, but one racoon was too little to feed the whole family. Daryl shouldered his crossbow and turned to Carl and Michonne.  
“Gonna check t’ woods for game.” He looked at Carl. “Wanna come?”  
“Sure.” Carl nodded with enthusiasm, placing his gun back in the holster.  
“Gonna be okay here?” Daryl turned to Michonne, who smiled at him tiredly but straightened up nevertheless, and Daryl was once again reminded of what a fine alpha she would have made.  
“Yeah, you can go.”  
“If anything…”  
“We’ll holler,” she finished for him, and shooed them out. Daryl knew he was leaving the group in good hands, so he didn’t think twice about going. Besides, they needed food.

It was only after Carl and he were deep in the bushes, tracking hares, that Daryl let himself think about Rick. Daryl still felt equal parts sick and angry whenever his mind wandered back to what had happened with the Claimers, cringing internally when his mind replayed Rick’s helpless whines over and over again. The alpha in him bristled at the thought of anyone hurting Rick, and Daryl had to admit that even if they weren’t together - weren’t _bonded_ \- Daryl still felt every bit like Rick’s alpha, wanting to provide for him and keep him safe no matter the cost.

If Rick was pregnant, something that was highly likely, given how his scent had changed recently, then Daryl’s hopes at ever getting together with the omega were slim. It wasn’t any kind of alpha-omega mumbo-jumbo, Daryl knew well that there was little stopping two adults getting together after another alpha’s child was born. But the state Rick had been in… Daryl had troubles imagining Rick getting back from something like this. Even with _just_ the trauma of the rape it would be difficult to convince Rick that not all alphas are bad, _to convince Rick that there wasn’t a bad alpha hiding somewhere deep inside Daryl_. But with a child reminding him about what had transpired every step of the way?

Daryl knew Rick. He knew the man would care for and, eventually, grow to love the baby - he was just that kind of a good person, family-oriented and loving towards his people. But to expect Rick to willingly get into a relationship with an alpha - even if the alpha in question was Daryl himself - with a kid crying every three hours and dragging Rick back into the darkness of the past? Daryl doubted anyone was that strong.

A sharp poke to his ribs made Daryl look to the side, just to see Carl pointing at something on the ground. Daryl frowned, not seeing anything until Carl moved a branch out of the way. Daryl smiled then, nodding at the kid. They stepped over a small pile of relatively fresh droppings and went further into the woods.

_They were going to have a deer for dinner._

 

-&-

 

Rick was sitting on a log just outside the small shack they had commandeered for the time being. Daryl had gone hunting with Carl, Michonne was busy checking the perimeter with Glenn, and Maggie and Sasha were trying to get everything organized to stay the night and move out on the next day. Abraham was somewhere behind the shack, collecting wood, the rhythmic thudding of an axe they had found jarring Rick’s nerves. He leaned forward, arms hugging around his chest, elbows resting on his thighs.

That’s how Daryl found him sometime later, seated in the last rays of the sun slowly setting behind the forest, curled up on the log and staring at the ground with unseeing eyes. The hunter stomped down the wave of worry that flooded him and glanced at Carl, who frowned seeing his father. But the kid didn’t comment, didn’t even stop his walk, so Daryl kept moving, dragging the deer behind them.

The fact that Maggie had been raised up on a farm was a small blessing. Daryl left her and Carl to skin the deer and prepare it for dinner, nodding his approval when they immediately set to the task, Abraham and Carol joining in. Tyreese took Judith away from the gore, cradling her gently and cooing to her. Daryl nodded, satisfied, and went to Rick.  
“Good hunt?” Rick asked before Daryl had the chance to say anything. The hunter frowned. Rick must have been pretty deep in thought if he hadn’t seen the buck they dragged all the way here with Carl.  
“Yeah. Got a deer,” Daryl confirmed. He sat down on the log, noting how Rick didn’t move at all.  
“That’s good. They’re all hungry.” Rick nodded solemnly, gaze focused on the ground still. Daryl hummed. He took in how Rick’s hands were clutching at the jacket he was wearing, fingers thin and pale. Rick looked like death warmed over, way too thin and too tired.  
“Ya need t’ eat somethin’, too,” Daryl prompted. “Yer way too thin.”

Rick’s head whipped to the side to look at him so fast, Daryl was sure the man would have a whiplash. Rick eyes were huge, full of something that shadowed the brilliant blue he had used to have, making those vibrant irises dull and dark. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. Daryl watched as he snapped it shut again and turned back to look at the ground, hands fisting in the material of his brown jacket, knuckles going white.

“I don’t want that baby,” Rick whispered, his words like a breeze. “I can’t… I can’t give b-bir-” His voice cracked. “ _I can’t.”_ Rick choked up, a sob escaping him as he attempted to curl up even tighter. Daryl couldn’t really sit there and not do anything, so he placed a gentle hand on Rick’s shoulder. Rick tensed, but didn’t otherwise react, and Daryl took it as a good sign. He threw one leg over the log, straddling it, facing Rick, and slowly moved closer. Rick still didn’t react, but his whole frame shook, so Daryl used the hand on Rick’s shoulder to coax him closer, tug him in until Rick leaned into him and his side was resting against Daryl’s chest. Daryl didn’t hesitate this time before wrapping his arms around Rick and holding him until the tremors went away.

They were silent for a long time, listening to the birds chirping somewhere in the distance and a bobcat screaming in the forest. Daryl couldn’t believe how quiet it was around them, how nature seemed to pause its never-ending cycle to look at Rick falling apart in his arms.  
“‘s gonna be okay,” Daryl murmured, closing his eyes, feeling how Rick jolted. His whole body seemed to quake with the force of whatever was brewing inside his head, and Daryl desperately wished he could do something to ease his mind and soothe his nerves. “Whadda ya need?” Daryl whispered, desperate enough to ask aloud what had been circling around in his brain.  
“Find me some pills,” Rick mumbled into the sleeve of Daryl’s jacket. The hunter frowned.  
Rick went on. “I can’t have that baby… Daryl, _I can’t._ It’s too much…”  
“I’ll take care of ya.” Daryl promised in a low voice. “Ya an’ the baby.”  
“You don’t get it, do you?” Rick laughed, an ugly and bitter sound that made Daryl’s skin crawl.

“I can’t _be_ pregnant… I can’t _give birth!”_ Rick spat out angrily. He was trembling again and Daryl hoped his own scent would be comforting enough to help Rick calm down a bit. It took a while, but eventually, Rick went on.

“I shouldn’t be an omega,” Rick said, so quietly Daryl barely heard him. “I’m all screwed up. I should want kids… that’s what my body was meant to do, right?”  
“Nobody’s judging ya, Rick. Not after what happened,” Daryl assured, swallowing hard.  
“What ‘bout before?” Rick shook his head and pressed his face into Daryl’s shoulder. “Back in the day… me and Shane, we had a… _a thing._ But he wanted kids. I didn’t. Not if I had to carry them. We broke up. I met Lori, married her, you know the rest.” Rick paused and took a deep, calming breath. “I can’t stand the thought of _something_ growing inside me, I can’t think of giving birth… _I can’t do this_ , Daryl.” With that, Rick moved his hands, latching at Daryl’s arm wrapped around his chest, holding on as if it was the last thing keeping him from falling into a void. Daryl stayed as still as he could, letting his head drop to Rick’s shoulder.

“Whadda ya want me to do?”  
“Find me some pills.”  
“Pills?” Daryl frowned.  
“Yeah. I need to get rid of it and fast.” Rick huffed out a humorless laugh and Daryl winced at the sound of it. “I need pills... or something sharp. A knife...” Rick breathed out and Daryl let the words sink in, feeling them twist his gut painfully.  
“No. _Fuck, no!_ ” He tightened his hold on Rick, forgetting his own policy of not crowding the omega. Rick didn’t seem to mind, though. “I’ll get you the damn pills. No _knives!_ ” Just the thought of Rick holding a knife to his stomach in desperate hands… Daryl had to bite back his own whimper.

And so it had been decided - he would start the search for pills the first thing in the morning. But for now, they had a deer for dinner and their family was alive. Daryl counted that as a small miracle.

 

-&-

 

Rick had been present when Lori had been giving birth to Carl. He could still remember all the details, her screams and the blood covering the doctor’s hands a vivid nightmare still living at the back of his mind.

It wasn’t a surprise when those same pictures invaded his dreams in the night.

_It wasn’t a surprise when his brain put him in Lori’s place._

He jolted awake, sitting up and gasping for every breath, his heart beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings. He could almost smell blood in the air, he could still feel the dull ache from clenching his muscles too hard.  
“Rick?” Daryl’s whisper made Rick whip his head around, searching for the alpha in the darkness around them. He could just make out the outline of Daryl sitting among other bodies lying on the floor, their family huddled up together for safety and warmth. Rick had chosen to settle in one of the corners, leaving Daryl to pick a place between him and the door. There was a sliver of moonlight illuminating Daryl from behind as he stood up and moved slowly towards Rick.

“Ya okay?” The hunter asked and Rick nodded, before he remembered that Daryl probably couldn’t see it.  
“Yeah.”  
“Bad dream?” Daryl asked tentatively, stepping closer and sitting down on the floor next to Rick.  
“Lori… It was Lori,” Rick said, feeling bad for lying. He didn’t want to lie to Daryl, but he also didn’t want to make Daryl worry about him even more than he already did.

The hunter grunted in sympathy and his hand searched for Rick’s on the blanket he had been sleeping on. Rick let their hands touch, a delicate connection that quickly became solid when Daryl linked their fingers together, squeezing lightly. A reassurance. Rick wanted to say something, to whisper a few words and make the night around them a bit brighter, but the sound got stuck in his throat. He lowered himself back on the blanket, never letting go of Daryl’s hand. The alpha didn’t seem to mind, he just moved closer, listening to Rick’s breathing slowly evening out.

Daryl waited until Rick fell asleep fully, before he extracted his hand carefully. He went back to his own blanket, an uneasy feeling forming deep inside his stomach. He didn’t want Rick to suffer, didn’t want him to be forced to have a baby he didn’t want, but finding what he needed would take a fucking miracle these days. It wasn’t an antibiotic that people kept in their bedside tables. Daryl would have to find a pharmacy or an abandoned hospital… and even then, he would probably need some help - he knew next to nothing about this kind of meds, and the internet was still dead.

Mentally cursing the apocalypse for happening, Daryl closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.

 

-&-

 

When morning came, it brought heavy rain and strong wind. Glenn had come back from his watch looking like a wet cat, immediately going to Maggie, looking for warmth. Sasha took the next watch, grumbling about not having an umbrella with them. Daryl only snorted, turning to talk to Michonne.  
“Wanna do a perimeter check?” He asked, shouldering his crossbow.  
“In that weather?” She countered, gazing outside. “It’s raining cats and dogs.”  
“Could use a walk in t’ woods.” Daryl shrugged for the benefit of anyone around. He hoped his face conveyed enough that Michonne would understand the message.

It seemed to have worked, for she nodded.  
“Sure, why not?” She collected her gun - the sword was still missing - and motioned for him to go. Daryl threw one last glance at Rick’s sleeping figure - curled up on his side, both hands under his head, a knife wedged into one of them - and walked out, Michonne following.

They went a few yards into the forest, just where the thick undergrowth started, when Daryl turned to face Michonne. She frowned, pausing, eyes searching his face.  
“Okay, what’s wrong?” Her voice was calm, but it had that undercurrent of worry she sometimes let out when only the core of their family was involved.  
“Rick’s…” Daryl sighed, looked to the side. “Rick’s pregnant,” he choked out, biting his lip. Michonne was quiet for a long time, raindrops falling on the leaves the only thing breaking the silence around them.  
“Shit,” she whispered finally, making Daryl look at her. She stumbled back a step, her back hitting a tree. Then, all the energy had left her and she bowed, propping her hands on her knees.

“How did he take it?” She asked, looking up at Daryl. The hunter scoffed.  
“Ya’ve seen it…” Daryl could almost see the wheels turning in her head.  
“The train car?”  
“Yeah.” He almost wished there was a lone walker ambling around somewhere. He could use a punching bag. But the forest was irritatingly silent.  
“What are we going to do?” Michonne asked, straightening up.  
“T’was why I wanted ya here. Need yer help,” Daryl explained, checking their surroundings on instinct. They were still in the woods, after all, all sorts of fucked up things could be waiting here to get their asses.  
“My help?” She asked, surprised.  
“Mhm. Yer a woman. Ya should know stuff.” Daryl sighed. “Rick doesn’t want this kid.”  
“I’m not surprised…” her words were as soft as the rain falling around them, but Daryl heard them loud and clear and it gave him some kind of a reassurance. It felt good to have Michonne on their side. Nevertheless, Daryl took a deep breath before voicing his next thought.

“D’ya… d’ya know anything about abortion?”  
“Yeah. It’s done in a hospital,” she stated skeptically. Daryl huffed out in irritation.  
“Can ya see any hospitals ‘round?” Daryl had to stomp down his urge to growl. It wouldn’t help.  
“No, I can’t. I was just trying to say… It’s not something you can do with a knife in the middle of the woods.”  
_“Fuck! I know!”_ Daryl kicked a small twig, watching as it skidded across the forest floor and hit a tree.

“Rick said he needed pills. Don’t even know _what kinda pills…_ ” Daryl groaned, looking at Michonne when she stepped closer to him, desperation showing all over his face.  
“If regular women’s pills would work on an omega, I think I can help with that,” she said carefully.  
“Really?”  
“Yeah. We need something that would stop the hormones in his body… of course if it works the same way as in women.”  
“Right.”  
“Not sure how many abortion pills we can find, but there are other meds that may work like this, too. We have to look for those with warnings about not using during pregnancy on them,” Michonne explained and Daryl’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Why hadn’t he thought of that sooner?

“Wanna go on a run with me?” Daryl asked, hopeful.  
“Yeah. As soon as the rain’s over. I don’t think slipping in the mud and falling on a walker is a good idea,” Michonne stated and Daryl nodded. They wouldn’t go far in this weather anyway.  
“Alright.”

They returned to the shack, but not before Daryl had shot a squirrel that had the misfortune to cross their path. They had enough meat to last them another day, but there was no telling when they would eat like this again, and a bit of squirrel jerky wouldn’t be bad.

He stepped inside the shack with a triumphant smirk, trying to lighten up the mood and holding the squirrel high, before the atmosphere inside registered in his brain. Daryl looked around, noticing Rick sitting on his blanket, knees drawn up, forearms resting on them. The position reminded Daryl about the one just after _that night,_ and he had to swallow hard to keep the bile in his stomach. The omega was looking at his hands, fiddling with the wedding ring he was still wearing. Daryl glanced around the suspiciously quiet room - it wasn’t totally silent, people were talking between themselves, but the voices were low. And then Daryl’s eyes focused on Maggie, on her slightly swollen eye and bruised lip.  
“It looks worse than it is.” Carol’s voice next to him almost made Daryl jump. He scowled at her.  
“The fuck happened?” He demanded.  
“Nothing serious. Rick had a nightmare, Maggie wanted to wake him up, forgot it was a bad idea, got punched for her trouble.” Carol shrugged, looking at Rick. “He’s not okay, is he?” She asked in a low voice, concern evident in her eyes. Daryl shook his head.  
“Nah, he ain’t.”  
“He was talking in his sleep,” Carol went on, voice hushed. “It sounded like…” She hesitated, biting her lip. “Was he attacked?” She asked in the end and Daryl nodded. There was no need to deny the fact - not if Carol already knew. Besides, he had a feeling she would understand.

“Go to him,” she whispered, reaching out and taking the squirrel from him. Daryl gave a curt nod and shuffled closer to Rick, hoping not to scare him. He seemed so deep in thought Daryl wasn’t sure he would notice his approach.

But Rick glanced at him as soon as Daryl got within a few feet from him, his beautiful, blue eyes snapping to Daryl for a moment, before they returned to his hands. Daryl frowned, stepping closer, sitting down next to Rick on one end of the blanket. Rick gave a sigh, closing his eyes and opening them again, going back to fiddling with his wedding ring.  
“Ya okay?” Daryl asked finally.  
“Yeah. I had this dream…”  
“Lori?” Daryl asked, mostly to keep Rick talking. Keeping that shit in wasn’t healthy and Daryl knew that.  
“No. It was me…” Rick’s voice got very quiet, one hand traveling to his face. He ran it through his hair, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “I dreamed I woke up with my belly round and big… Freaked out.” He gave a humorless bark of a laugh and Daryl’s hand travelled to the one Rick still had propped on his knee. The hunter laced their fingers together and squeezed, noticing how a small tremor made its way through Rick’s body. The omega shuddered and squeezed back, taking a deep breath.

“Shane was there,” Rick went on. “In my dream, I mean. Shane was there and I tried to get up from the bed, but he was holding me down… you weren’t there. I tried to scream for you… but you weren’t there… and I couldn’t make a… a sound… it was all just… so _wrong…_ ” Rick broke off, his breathing getting wilder the deeper into his head he got. Daryl shushed him gently.  
‘’s okay,” he assured. “Come here, yeah?” He prompted, tugging at Rick’s hand and putting his other around Rick’s shoulders. His friend came willingly, snuggling up to his side, hiding his face in Daryl’s neck and breathing erratically.

For a moment, Daryl wondered what their family would say about such a display, but when he looked around, nobody was paying them any attention. Nobody except Carol who walked to them, holding a steaming mug in her hands.  
“I found some chamomile today. And there’s a stream nearby.” She nodded her head at the steaming mug. Daryl threw a glance at the rest of their group, but they still didn’t seem to have noticed anything. He turned to Carol, a question evident in his eyes, a question not everyone would understand. She did.  
“When Maggie tried to wake him up, he started yelling about what had happened… They know.”  
“Fuck.” Daryl bit his lip not to growl.  
“It’s okay,” Rick mumbled and shifted in Daryl’s arms. The hunter looked down at him.

“They would have learned sooner or later.” Rick shrugged, looking resigned, uncurling a bit and twisting around to glance at Carol. She handed him the tea and he took it with shaky hands.  
“Drink. We have enough water to make more. And Sasha has found a way to keep rain away from the fire.” She gave Rick a warm smile and turned around. Daryl followed her with his eyes, smiling when he saw her going to Carl and Judith. They were all one big family, and Daryl had a feeling, somewhere deep in his gut, that they could get through anything together.

“Want some?” Rick asked, raising the mug to him. Daryl took a few sips and handed the tea back. Glancing around, content that their people were still keeping to themselves, he looked down, finding Rick gazing at him from above the rim of the mug.  
“Need ta tell ya somethin’” Daryl gruffed and Rick raised his eyebrows at him.  
“What is it?”  
“Michonne knows.” Daryl bit his lip, waiting for the information to sink in.  
“Pretty sure after this morning everyone - ” Rick broke off, eyes wide. _“Oh.”_ It suddenly occurred to him that Michonne had known from the start. What was more, Daryl’s voice was so apologetic, it couldn’t have been about… _what had happened on that road_. And that only left... “Why?” He asked, trying to stay calm.  
“Needed help. Don’t know which pills to get ya, nor how they work,” Daryl explained, hating how Rick shivered next to him. He tightened his arms around him, trying to chase away all bad thoughts that were no doubt swirling around their leader’s head.

“What did she say?” Rick asked after a long moment.  
“She’ll help if she can.”  
“Really?”  
“Yeah. We’re goin’ on a run, soon as the rain stops,” Daryl confirmed, and Rick nodded. He finished the rest of the tea and put the mug on the ground, before he curled up a bit tighter and leaned more into Daryl. The hunter was more than content to stay like this, arms wrapped around Rick, listening to the rain falling outside.


	5. Everything you're holding onto falls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rick does some thinking. Oh! And there are cuddles! :)

The rain stopped a few hours later. It was already well into the afternoon when Daryl and Michonne wandered out, intent on checking whatever house they could find out there. There wasn’t much, but there were two decently sized cabins a little ways down the road. They were picked clean and they lacked both, doors and windows, but Daryl didn’t give up and they went through both of them meticulously. The search brought up nothing of value, except for two blankets in ridiculous colors. Daryl bagged them and they went out, searching on.

By the time they made it back to their family, Daryl could feel a mix of disappointment and anger swirling inside him. It made him snarl at Sasha when she approached them just outside the shack they were staying in. He felt bad for it immediately after, but thankfully, she didn’t comment on that, didn’t even seem to notice. He brushed past her and walked inside, leaving Michonne to deal with whatever it was. Just as he stepped into the shack, Daryl heard her murmur something about moving on from their current spot. He shrugged that off and looked around, immediately spotting Rick sitting in the far corner.

The leader’s head was propped against the wall behind him and his legs were pulled up, and Daryl felt all the energy drain from him when Rick looked up, eyes zeroing-in on the hunter. Rick inclined his head in a silent question and Daryl shook his head ‘no’. They didn’t need to say anything. Daryl knew they still had some time - the longer Rick stayed pregnant the harder it would be to abort, but it was still an early stage - he just really wanted it done already. Especially when Rick seemed to curl up a bit more after Daryl had answered his unspoken question.

Carol approached him with a mug of stew and a piece of deer meat held through a tissue, and Daryl took them both, making his way to Rick and sitting down next to him. Daryl automatically handed the meat to Rick, but he declined with another shake of his head.   
“Not hungry,” Rick said and Daryl eyed him.   
“Ya eat anythin’?”   
_“Not hungry.”_ Rick almost growled this time.   
“Ya need ta eat.” Daryl changed tactics and took a sip of the stew. Then he pushed the mug into Rick’s hands. His friend took it with a scowl.   
“You say it like it’s important,” Rick murmured, before he took a tentative sip. Daryl frowned.   
“Tha’s cause it is.” The hunter didn’t even try to keep irritation out of his voice.

He knew Rick was in a rough spot, but to get out of it, he had to start taking care of himself a bit, too. Couldn’t he see it? Their family needed him, _Daryl needed him._   
“We need ya, Rick,” Daryl tried to explain, taking a bite of the meat, chewing on it thoughtfully. “Ya can’t just sit on yer ass an’ waste away. Our people need ya.” Daryl carefully left out the second part. He doubted Rick needed to hear about his own emotional mess right now. Daryl chanced a look at Rick, finding him staring with wide, confused eyes.   
“You meant.. I thought… _fuck._ I’m sorry,” Rick whispered sincerely and comprehension dawned on Daryl.

“Ya thought I was talkin’ ‘bout the baby?” He asked, voice low to keep the others out of it. Rick nodded slowly.   
“Yeah, thought you wanted me to eat so the baby is healthy in case…” he trailed off and Daryl scoffed.   
“Man… I don’ give two fucks ‘bout the baby… isn’t a baby yet, anyway,” Daryl gruffed out, taking another bite. Rick handed him the mug back, and Daryl exchanged it for the meat. It felt good to see Rick eat something at last. Daryl could see that he was mostly healed by now, it was clear by the way Rick could move around without wincing and cringing, but his habits of not eating any solid food prevailed and Daryl knew they needed to work on that. It was only that long a man could live on tea.

“‘m worried ‘bout ya, Rick,” Daryl confessed not looking at their leader. “Ya barely eat or sleep… I know ya don’t want tha’ baby, but it’s in there already. We can try…” he threw a glance around to make sure nobody was listening in, but thankfully, the rest of their family was all busy and not paying any attention to them. It was almost as if they were on high alert every time Daryl was away from Rick, but when he was here, everybody left him to keep watch over the head of their family. The alpha in Daryl almost purred at that.   
“We can try…?” Rick prompted and Daryl remembered that he wanted to say something.   
“We can try t’ get rid of it… but ‘fore that happens it’s gonna live off of ya and I don’t want ya disappearin’ man...” Daryl trailed off, remembering how Lori had looked a few weeks before they had stumbled upon the prison. She had been _so thin,_ her hair matted and her eyes without any kind of spark. Daryl had never particularly loved her, but Rick had, probably still did in some way, and Daryl was okay with that. She had been his pack, too, so he had tried to keep her alive. It was hard, though, especially with the baby sucking the life out of her.

Daryl’s eyes went to Judith, to how her little hands fisted in Maggie’s hair as she held their little precious bundle in her arms. She would make a good mom one day, Daryl was sure. For now, she had Judith to cuddle and coo to.   
“I’m gonna try,” Rick whispered, taking another bite of the meat and chewing on it. Daryl watched, satisfied, as he finished the piece a few moments later.

 

-&-

 

_Rick’s stomach hurt something awful. He had been walking in the woods and looking for something, but it was no longer clear what it had been. There was only a strange, dull pain throbbing through his insides and filling him with dread. Rick knew it meant that something was very wrong with him and that he was going to die, but he had no clue as to how to stop it._

_There was a walker coming at him, but Rik couldn’t do shit about it. His hands felt paralyzed, numb where they were clutching at his abdomen. They refused to move so he started to run. He wanted to scream, he knew Daryl had to be somewhere close, but no sound came from his open mouth. The walker got to him, Rick’s lead-filled legs not able to carry him far, and just as it started to open its rotting mouth to take a bite from Rick’s hand, a bolt appeared out of nowhere and embedded itself in the walker’s skull._

_Rick looked around while still on his back on the ground, but there was nobody there._

_His insides seized up again and the dull pain throbbed through him making him shiver. He was so fucking cold._   
_“Rick!” A gruff voice shouted somewhere to his left and he turned his head towards it, trying to see through the sunlight blinding him. Daryl was there, a shadow that ran quickly towards him. The hunter got on his knees next to Rick, put both hands on him to check for bites._ _  
“I’m fine,” Rick mumbled. He didn’t know why he was shaking so much. His vision was blurry and the woods went dark around them. _

_Daryl took his hands away and looked at them, frowning. Rick glanced first at his friend’s fingers - blood dripping from them - then down the length of his own body. His clothes were soaked in blood, fresh and warm, flowing over him like if it was raining down at him from an invisible cloud. Rick tried to get it off, to shake it off with his half-numb hands, but he knew it was no use. It looked like he was swimming in it._

_“Rick!”_

_Hershel appeared at his side, a worried frown etched deeply on his face and Rick looked at him, panic starting up again with new jolts of pain. It was still dull, still strange and mortifying, and Rick grabbed Hershel’s arm with desperate fingers. It smeared blood all over Hershel’s flannel shirt._

_“The baby is dead,” Hershel declared not looking at Rick. His eyes were focused on Daryl and Rick glanced at him, but saw only a Daryl-shaped shadow at his other side. “The baby is a walker and we need to get it out, you know we do,” Hershel stated, voice full of that fatherly worry that he bestowed upon Rick._

_It was all wrong, all so very wrong. Hershel was dead but he wasn’t, he was there, leaning over Rick’s body and taking a knife from Daryl’s shadowy hand, gripping it tightly and letting the blade catch some moonlight. The glint Rick saw was cold and made him shiver even more._

_And then the blade went down and Rick choked on a scream-_

“Rick!” Daryl’s hands were gripping Rick’s arms so tightly it hurt, but Rick didn’t really have enough breath left to complain. He gasped like a shored fish, twisting on the blanket, Daryl leaning over him and keeping his hands immobile. He needed to move, the longer he stayed like this, the more it reminded him of Hershel, and the blade, and the Claimers, and...  
“Let go, let go, let go…” Rick started to mumble, over and over, until Daryl’s hold slackened and he was able to rip his arms free. The hunter backed up a bit, sitting up next to him, and Rick sat up, too, pressing his back to the wall behind him.

“Ya awake now?” Daryl asked in a low voice and Rick nodded, still trying to catch his breath, his heartbeat loud in his ears. He blinked rapidly, chasing the dream away, too scared to close his eyes for longer than a fraction of a second lest he fall asleep again.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, just that a half-empty bottle of water appeared in front of his face, Daryl’s eyes sharp in the candlelight as he watched Rick drink. He took a few sips and handed the bottle back, swallowing convulsively around the last mouthful.   
“Sorry for grabbin’ ya,” Daryl apologized, voice still low, but the usual gruffiness of it was like a soothing balm for Rick’s nerves. “Wanted t’ wake ya, thought ya’d punch me.”   
“Sorry,” Rick whispered, wrapping his arms around himself, tucking his hands under his jacket. Fuck, he was still cold. Just like in his dream-   
“Ya better now?” Daryl asked, gaze focused on him and Rick shook his head. He looked down at his hands, clenching them into fists when they wouldn’t stop shaking. There was some rustling nearby and Rick glanced up just in time to see Daryl taking something out of his backpack. It was big and fluffy - a blanket. All in pinks and blues, the colors making for such a glaring clash that it was visible even in the candlelight.

Daryl scooted closer and threw the fluffy monstrosity around Rick’s shoulders, tucking it neatly around him, making sure there were no gaps that could let in cold air.   
“Thanks,” Rick murmured, glancing at the hunter. Daryl nodded back at him, shrugging.   
“Sorry I didn’t get any pills…”   
“No.” Rick shook his head again. “You tried. There’ll be other runs. I didn’t expect to find them that soon anyway,” he added, his voice sad and low. He could still feel a slight shiver making its way down his spine from time to time and his hands were twitching. Rick fisted them in the soft material of the blanket, staring at the ridiculous colors of it. He needed to do something to chase away the dream.

“Michonne and Glenn were talking about moving,” Rick said quietly, watching Daryl for any reaction. Rick knew the topic wasn’t really that important, but the hunter had that wonderful quality to him that made Rick forget about things simply by engaging in a conversation with him. Rick needed that desperately right now.  
“Yeah, I heard.” Daryl nodded. “Think it’s a good idea.”   
“We should pack up tomorrow and head north, maybe find a better place to stay…” Rick mused, hands unclenching from the blanket. They stopped twitching finally and he started to trace the patterns on the blanket with his fingers barely brushing the material.   
“We need somethin’ like the prison,” Daryl gruffed out, eyes focused on Rick’s hands.   
“Yeah… a place to rest and regroup.” Rick nodded thoughtfully.   
“Ya need some rest right now,” Daryl pointed out and Rick winced. He was scared to go back to sleep in case his nightmares returned.

Daryl must have sensed his hesitation.   
“Ya remember the train car?” The hunter asked, eyeing Rick, who frowned. Then his mind went back to how they had ended up cuddled together and to how _safe_ he had felt then. He nodded wordlessly and Daryl seemed to think something over for a moment, before he got up slowly.

“Move a bit?” He asked, gesturing with his hand and indicating that Rick should move away from the wall. Rick did, inching slowly forward, holding the blanket close to him. Daryl waited until there was enough space for him to fit in, before he installed himself between Rick’s back and the wall behind them, leaning against it and bringing his knees up on both sides of Rick. He was a little worried that Rick would protest being caged in, but their leader just wriggled a bit in place and lied back, twisting around minutely to get comfortable against Daryl’s chest. The angle was weird, but the feeling of Daryl close to him made Rick feel safe again.

“Sleep, yeah? I’ll wake ya if anythin’ happens,” Daryl whispered, propping his elbows on his knees. It kept his hands up, almost as if they were blocking the world around them from getting to Rick, a physical barrier. Daryl didn’t want his friend to feel too boxed-in, even of all his instincts screamed at him to hold Rick close and never let go.

But, Rick surprised him. After a bit of quiet he reached out and grabbed Daryl’s hand, tugging it down and around, effectively wrapping Daryl’s arm around his middle. Daryl brought his other hand around him, too, feeling Rick tense slightly, before his body relaxed into the hug. It took Rick a long time to fall asleep, but when he finally did, there were no more nightmares on that night.

 

-&-

 

Three days later, they found an abandoned cabin. The doors were more or less intact, and the building had two rooms and a mostly functional kitchen. There was a well nearby and solar panels on the roof that promised a hot shower as soon as they would get Eugene to tinker with the mechanics of it.

Michonne and Sasha cleared the inside of the cabin while Daryl and Rick checked the backyard. Both were clear from walkers and people alike, and their family quickly moved in. After everyone found a spot for themselves, Daryl was happy to notice that for once Rick didn’t argue when the group shooed him away to take the bed for himself. Content at the developments, Daryl took his pack and wandered to the bed, opening it and taking out his blanket. He laid it out on the floor right next to the bed, nodding at Rick when he spotted their leader looking at him with a curious look in his blue eyes. They were crystalline clear today… it was going to be a good day.

_When had he started to judge the future by the way Rick’s eyes looked?_

Daryl shook his head to clear it and glanced at Rick. His friend had sat down on the bed and was looking at the dusty bedspread, running his fingers over the swirly pattern. Daryl knew that now that they had a roof over their heads and a peaceful night ahead, Rick would get back to thinking. Daryl knew what that thinking entailed. He threw a glance at the window, taking in the almost-sunset painted over mostly clear sky. An idea came to him.  

“Hey, ‘m gonna head out, check t’ woods for game. Wanna come?” Daryl watched as Rick dragged his eyes away from the bedspread just to focus on him, something soft flashing in them before it disappeared quickly.   
“Yeah… yeah.” Rick nodded, standing up, walking around Daryl’s blanket and to his pack. He took out bullets for his Colt and loaded it, before he grabbed his jacket and put it on. Daryl took it as a clue to get ready, too, so he shouldered his bow and checked if his knife was within reach. Well… one of his knives, he had five of them on him, but he’d rather not have to get them all out on such a beautiful day.

Rick’s blue eyes fixed on him and Daryl jerked his head in the direction of the doorway. They went out.

They were barely ten yards away from the cabin and Rick already felt better. No matter how much he loved to have a roof over his head with all his family packed in, safe and sound, there was always that undercurrent of panic that kept flowing through him.

_Too many alphas confined in too close quarters._

Rick knew they were all his family now, but it was still hard to close his eyes and let himself relax for a bit. He trusted them, but his instincts told him to keep them all at a safe distance anyway. Well, everyone except for Daryl.

 _Daryl_.

Rick glanced at the hunter prowling next to him, eyes focused on something ahead of them, searching the forest and looking for some unfortunate animal to bring back to their people. Rick didn’t doubt that they were _their_ people. Even if the family had chosen him as the leader, Daryl was still the group’s alpha, providing for them and protecting them. Protecting _Rick_ , too. It made it easier to listen to the alpha when Rick needed any kind of advice. Being born an omega, his instincts would tell him to obey alphas - it was something imprinted so deeply in the omegas’ brains that it was hard to fight off. But Rick had been one of those few stubborn ones who worked hard through their entire life not to let their instincts rule their heads. Every since he had been a kid, there had been an urge to do things his own way, not to fall into the trope of omega’s unconditional submission.

He liked to think that he had won that a long time ago.

And yet, here was Daryl, the only alpha that had ever caught Rick’s attention enough to follow him wherever he went. Even with Shane it had been different - Rick had always made decisions on his own back then. With Daryl though? When he needed a piece of advice, he turned to Daryl, then usually followed what the hunter said to the T.

Even now in the forest, when Daryl threw his hand to the side wordlessly, Rick stopped immediately, not questioning and just doing what he was told. He looked ahead, spotting a walker milling about between trees. Daryl signaled to him to stay put and went to the walker on silent feet, killing it with the kind of deadly precision Rick had always admired. The corpse fell to the ground and Daryl looked around, eyes searching for more danger, before he turned back to Rick and beckoned him over.

As Rick’s feet moved, he realized it wasn’t any kind of alpha charm that made him obey Daryl at times like this. It wasn’t his hormones or his bloody omega instincts he had been trying to squish for his whole life. It was a lot simpler than biology even though it went far beyond that - Rick trusted Daryl. He trusted him with his life, the life of his kids, his family. Rick trusted Daryl even if Daryl was an alpha, just like his attackers had been, yet Rick didn’t feel threatened in Daryl’s presence. Sure, he couldn’t predict how he would react if Daryl tried to touch him without a warning, but then again, Rick had punched Maggie when she had tried to wake him, his instincts getting the better of him before he had had a chance to reign himself in. And Maggie had never been threatening to him in any way. Daryl, with all his strength and deadly grace, should make Rick feel uncomfortable.

Should but _didn’t._ Not even for one second.

“Should check tha’ trail,” Daryl spoke, voice as gruffy as always, something Rick found a lot more comforting than he was willing to admit to himself. He followed the trail Daryl pointed to with his eyes. It was a thin path, clearly used frequently in the past, now overgrown with shrubs and grass. He looked at Daryl questioningly. “Could be a stream or somethin’. People had t’ have a reason t’ walk ‘ere,” the hunter explained and Rick nodded.

They followed the trail until they found a clearing and, in the middle of it, a small lake. It was completely grown over, the water green and stinky. Rick walked to the edge of it, peering inside, feeling his stomach lurch with disgust when he spotted a few walker parts floating around, bloated and discolored.   
“No fish, huh?” Daryl asked sarcastically, eyeing the green sludge. Rick just sighed.   
“We should get back,” he said, voice thoughtful, eyes focused on the sky above them. It was getting dark and they shouldn’t be out here in the woods.   
“Yeah,” Daryl agreed and they started their silent hike back.


	6. Want to believe in something else

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder if anyone is guessing the songs I used for chapter titles? :) 
> 
> The next chapter is here, and the search continues. With it, a bit of drama and fluff comes, too. Enjoy!

The cabin haven lasted for two days.

On the third morning Rick was jerked awake by Daryl’s hand on his shoulder.  
“We gotta move,” the hunter whispered, eyes frantic. Rick heaved himself up and looked around, noticing everyone packing their stuff quietly, getting ready to head out. Carl was done already, standing with Judith in his arms, looking outside one of the windows. Rick followed his gaze, noticing dark figures moving outside, snarling and groaning. He looked back at Daryl.  
“How many?” Rick mouthed silently, already pulling on his jacket and bending over to snatch his pack.  
“‘bout twenty,” Daryl gruffed, glancing outside, keeping tabs on the situation. Rick frowned.  
“We’ve taken more out,” he pointed out, but pulled on his boots anyway. Daryl had to have a reason to do this.

The hunter looked at him and shook his head.  
“There’s a herd behind ‘em. Saw it while huntin’. Fifty heads or more,” Daryl whispered, turning back to observe the situation through the window. Rick’s eyes widened and he nodded to himself, packing his meager belongings and checking up on Carl and the rest of their family. They all seemed to be ready to head out and waited only for Daryl to green-light it.

“Alright,” Daryl breathed finally. “Go north, be quiet,” he instructed in a low voice and they all spilled out from the cabin. It seemed a shame to leave it behind, but Rick knew that with fifty walkers headed their way it would be asking for trouble.

Thankfully, they made it into the forest and away from the herd without any accidents. They walked for three miles before Rick let himself breathe a bit easier. He was tired of running and he was tired of staying inside of one place, too. He didn’t know what the fuck he wanted, besides having his family alive and safe, and it was confusing as hell to feel all of this at once and still be relieved to be out in the woods.

“Gonna check it out.” Daryl’s raspy voice tore Rick out of his thoughts and he looked ahead, seeing the hunter taking his crossbow off his shoulder. There was a house in the distance, an old thing that had surely been cared for before the apocalypse had struck. It was big enough to house two families with kids and it had a spacious backyard… Rick checked his Python and handed his bag over to Michonne.  
“I’m gonna go with him,” Rick muttered, hating the idea of Daryl checking out a house that big on his own. The hunter waited for him and, once Rick joined him, they went inside carefully.

The house was quiet upon entering, and Rick breathed out a sigh of relief. They looked around, weapons pointed, noticing immediately why the building was abandoned. While the exterior looked fairly taken care of back in the day, the inside was a mess. The wood of the staircase was so rotten Rick gave up on checking out the second floor. The walls were a dusty mix of breaking concrete and old plaster falling away, making them step carefully around some parts in case they fell off and buried them in the rubble.

Quietly, they checked room after room, digging into cupboards and desk drawers, taking anything they could use but silently hoping to find some abortion pills. It was a big house, the owners clearly had had a lot of kids in here… hadn’t they had enough of them at some point?

They came back empty-handed each time they ransacked a new room, and Rick was slowly losing his hope at finding anything, when they approached the last set of closed doors. Daryl tried to open them, but they were locked. Grunting and telling Rick to back up a bit, Daryl took a step back and smashed into the door with all his weight. The lock gave and he stumbled inside, blinking in the bright light falling through one of the big windows. Rick blinked at the brightness and followed, stepping inside slowly.

The room had clearly been a nursery - the walls were painted an array of lively, happy colors, dusted over with time. Little animals were smiling at them from every corner, plushies squished tightly together on every available shelf and toys strewn around.

And that’s when they heard it.

A quiet gurgling noise, something that sounded vaguely familiar and yet so distorted, it took Rick a longer moment to recognize it.

_A baby._

Rick blinked, then blinked again, thinking that his mind may be playing tricks on him. But no matter how long they stood there, staring ahead at a pink cradle pushed into one of the room’s corners, the sounds were not going away. Daryl moved first, stepping forward, face so blank Rick knew it was just a facade. He followed the hunter, stopping just by the cradle, peering inside.

There was a baby, alright. It couldn’t be more than two months old, judging by its size. Daryl’s gaze shifted from the baby’s foggy eyes and half-rotten skin to Rick, noticing how pale he had gone.  
“Rick?” Daryl reached out with one hand tentatively, wincing when he saw a full-body shiver rake Rick’s frame. His friend shook his head and stepped back, stumbling over one of the toys. Another step, and this time Rick tripped on a plushie dinosaur, falling on his ass, eyes still glued to the cradle in front of him. He scrambled back until he hit the wall behind.

 _Daryl wasn’t with him. People all around, but no Daryl. Everyone was smiling and cheerful and they leaned over him, talking about something Rick couldn’t make out. Someone pushed a bundle into his hands, a writhing thing wrapped in a blanket and Rick didn’t want it, he wanted it away, wanted them all to take it away from him… but nobody did. They just chatted and laughed and looked down at him and then Rick looked down, too… A pair of foggy, unseeing eyes greeted him and a tiny mouth opened in a snarl and Rick jumped back, trying to hand the baby back to them._ _But it started to grab at him, grabbed his fingers with more strength than it had any right to have. It bit down and Rick almost screamed, because that hurt, and why did it have teeth, and-_

“Hey, breathe.” Daryl’s voice filtered through the haze and Rick tried to focus on it, curling away when he felt a hand on his arm. “Rick, look at me,” the voice commanded quietly and Rick did, raising his eyes to meet Daryl’s stormy-blue ones. “Breathe, okay? It’s alright, just breathe.” Daryl kept on muttering, until Rick’s world stopped spinning and the insistent ringing left his ears. He took a couple of careful breaths, trying to keep himself from panicking even more, telling himself that Daryl was there and everything was going to be fine. It worked after a moment and soon, his heart stopped racing like a skittish colt and his breathing came back to normal.  

“Can ya stand up?” Daryl asked softly and Rick nodded hesitantly. “Okay, let’s getcha outta ‘ere.” With that, Daryl helped him up from the floor and out of the house. They walked slowly, Rick’s legs shaking like jello with every step and he hated it. He hated feeling so fucking weak that he had to rely on Daryl to hold him upright. But they managed to stumble out of the house and onto the green grass just outside, when Rick finally felt his legs give out. He slid to the ground, sitting on his heels, propping himself up on his hands and focusing on the clean smell of the nature around him. He heard Daryl walking around, checking the area for walkers, but it had been just an afterthought to him, a background noise he filtered out as he tried not to puke all over the pretty green grass.

Rick didn’t know how long he sat there, but finally, Daryl returned, scooting down next to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. This time Rick welcomed the careful touch, Daryl’s attempt at grounding him keeping him from slipping back into the memories.  
“Ya okay?” Daryl asked quietly and Rick nodded.  
“Better,” he answered, closing his eyes for a second, opening them again when all the action did was bringing back the images of his nightmares.

“I’ve been having those dreams,” Rick whispered. Daryl grunted next to him and shifted, sitting down and scanning the area once again. Rick looked at him from the corner of his eye, quietly admiring the way Daryl could keep him safe in so many different ways Rick felt he was yet to discover all of them.  
“Don’t need to explain,” Daryl said, shrugging.  
“Feels like I owe you an explanation,” Rick huffed, sitting upright and looking at the trees in the distance, trees under which their family was gathered, waiting for them. A shiver made its way down Rick’s spine and he hissed.

“The baby… the baby’s a walker in those dreams,” Rick continued and Daryl shifted next to him.  
“Last night?”  
“Mhm. And the night before, and the one before that… _Fuck..._ ” Rick trailed off, brushing his hand through his hair. “I’m fucked up.” He huffed out a bitter laugh.  
“Nah,” Daryl protested. There was so much confidence in that little, gruffy sound that Rick almost believed him. “Yer just copin’, ‘s all.”  
“Not doing a good work of that either…”  
“Ya need time, man.” Daryl sighed. “C’mon. Let’s get back,” he prompted and Rick nodded.

They made their way back to their family, Rick marching ahead as if putting physical distance between him and the house would help him deal with whatever was brewing inside his head. Daryl followed him, noticing that Rick didn’t even stop to let the others know that the location was out of question, he just walked past them and continued to move forwards along the road.

“Any good?” Tara asked him as soon as he approached. She had a hopeful look on her face and Daryl hated to tell her ‘no’ but he had to.  
“Not this place,” he gruffed out and Tara frowned. Glenn joined in.  
“You sure man? It looks nice from here,” he asked, frowning.  
_“Not this place.”_ Daryl almost growled this time, fully aware how mean he looked when he narrowed his eyes like he did just now. Thankfully, it was enough to shut them up about the topic of the house, and they all started out on the road again with Rick leading the way.

A few hours later they stumbled upon an old supermarket. It was small but looked well-boarded up and Daryl decided to check it out. They were running low on necessities and a place to stay the night in wouldn’t be bad either. Rick insisted on coming along, and even if the man was exhausted from the road and his own mind running in circles, Daryl couldn’t really tell him ‘no’. They told everyone to wait out of the harm’s way, not knowing whether the place would be abandoned or crawling with walkers. Daryl nodded appreciatively when their family installed itself near the edge of the forest, about three hundred yards between them and the shop.

The inside turned out to be blissfully walker-free and quiet. Daryl’s eyes scanned the spacious interior, noticing how the ceiling seemed to be caved in in a few places. It was hanging low, its weight supported by the high shelving keeping it in place. Daryl inclined his head to indicate one of such places.  
“Looks ready to come down on us,” he warned, and Rick nodded, putting his colt back into the holster. They started to dig through boxes lying around, finding mostly dried and canned food. Daryl found a pack of batteries and a few bottles of gatorade and just as he started putting them into his backpack - they could get the rest of their family in here to help them with the food -

_There was a loud crash behind him._

“Rick!?” He whirled in place, eye widening at the cloud of dust forming where his friend had previously been standing.

 

-&-

 

Daryl’s eyes were so fucking blue when they got as wide as in that moment… Rick couldn’t do more than blink up at him, take the sight in. It wasn’t often that he could see Daryl like this, a mix of anger and _panic_ making his hands shake as they grabbed Rick and pulled him from underneath the rubble. Those same hands hurriedly checked him over, skimming over his shirt-clad chest and twitching legs, checking for any major injuries that he could have sustained.

There were none.

As soon as that fact registered in Daryl’s brain he jumped up and started pacing around, glancing at Rick from time to time, eyes getting back to their narrowed shape. Rick frowned and got up on shaky legs, stumbling when he took a step forward to collect his weapon.  
“T’ hell was that?” Daryl asked, voice demanding. Rick just shrugged and turned around, walking to the pile of rubbish that was now the part of the ceiling he had been standing under and checking if any of their loot was still salvageable. He picked up a few cans and a packet of rice when a hand landed on his shoulder. Rick shrugged it off and leaned away, the reaction as instinctive as breathing now, his body memory making him flinch away even from Daryl. But the hunter wasn’t having any of that. The hand landed on Rick again, this time with fingers curling around his arm and the leader was being spun around before he could react.

Daryl was _furious_. Rick had known him long enough to notice that going by his expression alone.  
“The fuck man? Ya got a death wish or somethin’?” Daryl spat, voice dangerous. Rick blinked at him owlishly.  
“No,” he replied matter-of-factly, almost shrugging again but stopping himself at the last moment. It would do none of them good if he kept stocking the anger boiling inside his friend. It wasn’t that Rick was afraid of Daryl, he knew the man would never hurt him. But making an already angry wolf even more furious wasn’t a smart choice in any case.

“Looked like ya do,” Daryl growled, “the hell d’ya do that for, huh?”  
“I thought…” Rick took a deep breath just to collect his thoughts a bit. It turned out to be a bad idea - he was surrounded by Daryl’s scent and he could easily tell that the alpha was angry. There was something else in his friend’s scent, though, an acidic kind of smell that hadn’t really been there before. “I thought there was a box of pills on the top shelf… wanted to check it out.”  
“An’ kill yerself in t’ process?”  
_“No.”_ Rick frowned - that hadn’t been his intention at all.

“No?” Daryl took a step forward which brought him directly into Rick’s personal space. It could have been threatening, but thankfully, Daryl had managed to calm himself down a bit and his scent started to change, the usual protectiveness almost emanating from him in waves. “Ya knew t’ shelves were shit an’ tha’ they would collapse. Ya sill went there.” Daryl’s eyes were narrowed and his voice was a low growl, but he sounded confused now, too. Rick shook his head. He really didn’t want to die, the problem was, he wasn’t really keen on living either. Not if he had to live with that kid, that _parasite_ inside him.

“I had to risk it,” he stated defensively. It was either this, or him going mad.  
“‘cause of t’ baby?!” Daryl’s voice rose a bit and suddenly, their mixed scents were too much for Rick. A wave of emotions hard to identify hit him and he had to fight not to lose it. “T’ baby ain’t worth ya killin’ yerself, Rick!” Daryl growled. Rick hated how he still called that _thing_ inside him a baby. It wasn’t a baby, not yet. And if Rick had anything to say in that, it would never _be_ one.  
“It’s not a _baby,_ it’s a fucking _parasite!”_ Rick snarled, then tried to turn around and walk away, knowing that this time Daryl wouldn’t stop him. Tried and failed, because his feet suddenly turned to lead. He was stuck in place, a strange powerless feeling washing over him, and before he knew what was happening, Daryl was stepping closer and reaching out tentatively, all traces of anger gone and replaced by that warmth only he could telegraph into Rick’s confused brain.

“Rick.” Daryl whispered, voice _oh so soft_ , as careful arms wrapped around him. It was only then that Rick realized just how erratic his breathing was and how he was shaking all over. A few gulping breaths, a loud sob, and Daryl was on the floor with him, keeping him upright as Rick cried into his shirt, trying to keep quiet not to draw any attention to them.

Daryl’s quiet mantra of ‘it’s okay, I got ya’ was as soothing as his protective embrace, both of them keeping Rick from losing his mind completely.

“Rick!? Daryl!?” Glenn yelled somewhere in the background and Daryl cursed under his breath before he answered the call.  
“We’re fine!” He shouted back, twisting around to glance behind him, satisfied when the rubble blocked the view of the front door. “Be out in a sec!” He turned back to Rick. His friend was pulling away from him, rubbing at his face and making a mess of the tears and the dust that had settled on them from the cave-in. Daryl grabbed his pack and dug out a half-empty bottle of water, spilled some on his red rag and handed it to him.

“Shouldn’t waste it,” Rick mumbled, but he took the rag anyway, wiping at his face quickly. Daryl felt something uneasy settle in his stomach when he remembered the morning when it had all gone to shit, out there on the road with Joe’s gang. He had done the same thing back then, giving Rick the rag to clean his face up. The hunter shook his head and stood up, helping Rick off the floor, too. They made their way back outside, meeting concerned gazes of their whole family as soon as they stepped out of the supermarket.

“Dad!” Carl was the first to react, walking to Rick and throwing his arms around him tightly. Rick grunted but answered the hug with one of his own, bowing his head to kiss the top of Carl’s hat-free head. They stayed like this for a longer moment and Daryl was ready to turn his eyes away, but something strange happened right then. Carl pulled away, looking at his father with teary eyes and gave him a small nod. He turned to Daryl next and wrapped his hands around Daryl’s waist, too, squeezing the living daylights out of him. The hunter shifted uncomfortably and waited for it to be done, so he could look at the smaller version of Rick, staring at him with his bright-blue eyes.

Carl nodded at him as if he wanted to say ‘thanks’ and turned back around to face Rick, who placed a gentle hand on his son’s shoulder.  
“I thought something bad happened,” the kid said, making Rick smile reassuringly.  
“We’re fine, it was just an accident.” He threw a meaningful glance in Daryl’s direction and the alpha scoffed, but let it be. “Everyone okay here?” Rick asked and Carl nodded.  
“Yeah. We found footprints, though.” Carl pointed in the direction of the forest and Daryl was grabbing his crossbow and walking there before the words sank fully in.  
“Show ‘em to me,” the hunter demanded, the protective side of him coming to the surface, and Carl went with him, giving directions and leading him into the forest.

They emerged a few minutes later, Daryl’s face carefully blank.  
“So, what is it?” Rick asked, looking up at them, noticing how tight Daryl’s shoulders were. He adjusted the crossbow on his shoulder with a jerky motion and looked around, squinting.  
“A small group o’ people… Musta been here ‘bout four hours ago,” Daryl gruffed, gaze shifting back to Rick. The leader only nodded.  
“Best we keep moving, then,” he stated, standing up and picking up his backpack.


	7. As the darkness closes in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time, a very important development between our boys. And a longer chapter ;) 
> 
> Thanks for your continuous support and many comments! I absolutely love talking to you all!

They picked an old house with shattered windows for their shelter that night - there was just nothing better to choose from. Daryl and Michonne made sure that the perimeter was clear while Abe and Glenn checked the insides. Rick stayed with Judith who had fallen asleep sometime earlier that evening. Carl was standing close, hand on his gun, keeping watch over his dad and little sister.

As soon as Daryl declared the coast clear, they walked inside. Daryl called Rick over to the couch and spread out a blanket over it, folding its sides so that it would prevent Judith from accidentally rolling off. Rick smiled seeing this and sat down on the other end of the couch, gently putting his daughter down and making sure she was comfortable and warm. He glanced around, spotting Maggie and Sasha starting a fire in an old-fashioned stove the house had. Carl moved to one of the windows and, together with Rosita, they boarded it up with a door torn out of one of the closets. They used a heavy-looking bookshelf to block another window and nailed a blanket to the third one, draping it so that it served as a tight curtain.

It was only after everyone settled down that Rick could take stock of himself. He was still feeling a bit shaken after the walker baby they had encountered, the personification of his nightmares haunting his thoughts whenever he let his mind wander a bit. He was only grateful that Daryl had stopped them from spending a night in that old house.

Daryl…

Rick’s gaze shifted to the hunter, eyes following his hands, working steadily on a squirrel he had managed to kill earlier. His movements were quick but precise, and Rick couldn’t help but admire their efficiency. There was an undefined thought somewhere deep inside his head, a thought he couldn’t shake either, just like that baby walker. It clung to him, made him try to find another way of dealing with the situation… even though for an entirely different reason. Daryl took the skin off the dead animal and placed it on the side - what for, Rick couldn’t begin to guess - and handed the skinned meat to Carol, who was in charge of tonight’s dinner, apparently.

As Rick watched, Daryl ran one finger through the fur on the hollow skin, a forlorn expression flickering over his face. He looked up at Rick and caught him staring, so he shrugged.   
“‘s a shame we won’t stay ‘ere,” he explained, glancing at the fur beneath his hand. “Could hunt down some more of ‘em and make Judy a blanket or somethin’.” His voice was raspy and Rick found himself nodding before his brain could even get to the rest of Daryl’s explanation. The hunter ran his finger over the fur once more, before he sighed and got up. He took the skin and walked quietly outside, probably to dispose of it. Rick couldn’t really stop the tight feeling in his stomach that squeezed at his insides suddenly. It took him a moment to pick his reaction apart - something he had been avoiding till now out of fear of what he would find if he inspected himself too closely.

The moment he realized just what was sitting at the back of his mind, Rick almost curled up on the couch again. He felt like that dead squirrel. He had been feeling like that for a long time now. It wasn’t only the assault, it had been happening a long time before. The world had tried to kill him, _had probably killed him in some metaphorical sense that made his head dizzy just to think about,_ and later on, he had been slowly skinned alive with every day of living in the apocalypse. What the Claimers had done to him… it had been almost as if they had taken what was in the core of him and left only the dead skin on the side of the road.

And then Daryl had stepped in and - just like with the squirrel - started to run his fingers over the dead fur, wishing he could do something beautiful out of it. And that’s why it hurt so much to see Daryl just throw the skin out like the trash it was.

_Rick was afraid._

He was afraid that Daryl would get rid of him just like he did with the remains of the dead animal.

Logically, Rick knew Daryl would never do that, not to anyone in their family, not to _him._ But the irrational fear stayed, fueled by just how hollow Rick felt in that moment, and suddenly, he had trouble keeping his eyes from misting over. He didn’t want to cry, not in front of everyone - they had to have him filed away as a nutcase already - so he tried to keep it together. He didn’t want to let his mind get the better of him for another reason, too… Daryl had never failed him, he had never been hostile towards Rick, he had been nothing but patient and caring since the whole mess had happened. Rick didn’t want to even let the possibility of Daryl treating him badly cross his mind - it would be unfair to Daryl. And it would hurt Rick too much, too. Daryl was his anchor, his rock, the one man he could trust in this fucked up world, and Rick didn’t want to jeopardize that.

The fact that Daryl was an alpha didn’t change the situation, really. Sure, it helped when they got closer than the two-feet distance Rick usually kept with everyone except for his closest family, Daryl’s scent calming him down and making Rick feel protected and cared for, but it wasn’t as important as the hunter’s personality. He was a gruff man, rough at the edges, unpleasant when irked, but he still managed to make Rick feel safe, _make Rick love him_ _,_ even if the feelings the omega harbored had been slow in changing. At first, it had been friendship, then brotherhood… later on, before Rick had caught on with what had happened, there had been love and it stayed with him until now. The problem was, Rick doubted he could ever get what he really wanted. Daryl didn’t scare him, he didn’t make Rick feel uneasy when they stayed close. It wasn’t Daryl, it was just the fact that Rick’s body was slow on the uptake and every time Daryl got too close, the body memory would kick in and Rick would tense up before he reminded himself that it was Daryl who was standing next to him.

It always took a moment, sometimes longer, sometimes shorter, before his body caught up with his mind and he could relax and enjoy Daryl’s protective closeness and his comforting touch. If it worked at all, that is.

“Ya alright?” Daryl’s words startled him out of his mind so unexpectedly, Rick practically jumped. He looked up, noticing how Daryl’s hands were now bloodless and clean. The alpha gazed at him with a worried expression and Rick nodded, mostly to put him at ease. He had so many things he wanted to tell Daryl, so many thoughts circling his mind, but he didn’t have a clue how to start, so he bit back all of them, pushed them away and let them be for now.

They ate a quiet dinner, sharing the rest of their food evenly between them. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and it served to make everyone feel a bit more at ease. Even Rick ate his share with Daryl’s prompting, and he counted it as a success when he didn’t feel like he would throw up immediately after. When the time for sleep came, Carl declared he would be sleeping on the couch with Judith and none-so-subtly steered Rick into the direction of one of the bedrooms. Rick went without protest, too tired to argue, with Daryl following him like a shadow. It was their unspoken rule now to sleep in the same room - something the rest of the group never commented on.

The bed was huge and overflowing with pillows. Rick immediately grabbed a few of them - leaving only two, one for him and one for Daryl’s nest that was sure to appear on the floor soon - and took them outside to give them to their family. Sasha thanked him with a smile and went to place them on the bedrolls they had. Rick got back to the bedroom feeling lighter, only to feel his heart stutter a bit when he entered it. There was no blanket nest on the floor and Daryl sat on a chair in the corner of the room, looking like he might not be staying the night. Rick shivered and walked closer, eyebrows raising in question.   
“You’re not sleeping?” He asked, managing to get the shakiness out of his voice. Daryl shrugged.   
“‘m on watch in three hours, I’ll sleep later,” he explained and Rick frowned.   
“You could use some sleep now, too.” He eyed the bed. It was big enough to fit the two of them and probably four other people if they went for the _sardines in a can_ setting. He looked back to Daryl. “We can share,” he proposed, giving himself a mental shake. _It was Daryl, and Daryl had never hurt him._

Daryl stared at him for a long moment, eyes narrowed, working something out in his head. Finally he nodded, getting up.   
“‘m on the side closer to t’ door,” Daryl stated, taking his crossbow and placing it on the floor next to the headboard. Rick could only nod, taking off his jacket and placing it on the chair Daryl had occupied just a moment earlier. He didn’t really feel like undressing, so he left his jeans on, opting to just get rid of his boots. The bed had a comforter on it, one which Daryl tugged lower to have it handy if needed. The hunter stretched on his back and looked up at the ceiling, putting both hands under his head and closing his eyes. It didn’t slip Rick’s attention how he had carefully left him enough space to put more than a foot of distance between them.

Rick stood there for a moment, reminding himself that this was _Daryl,_ before he bit the bullet and climbed next to him, lying on his side and facing his friend. Daryl had his eyes closed, his breathing calm and even, and Rick wondered if he was asleep already. He watched Daryl’s face, gaze slipping over his relaxed features, taking in the details of the man he knew so well. Like this, Daryl looked so peaceful and carefree that Rick felt the need to get closer to him - maybe if he pressed his own body to Daryl’s he would get some of his serenity into his own mind by osmosis? He knew he could do that, too, Daryl wouldn’t mind it one bit. But Rick was still reluctant to take that step, so instead, he reached out with one hand. Just before he was to place it on Daryl’s slowly moving chest, Rick hesitated, letting his fingers hover awkwardly an inch from the shirt Daryl was wearing.

_He couldn’t do it._

Something about today had been too destructive and it had thrown him back into the loop of distrust, painting pictures of shitty alphas in his mind.

“Stop thinkin’ an’ go to sleep.” Daryl’s voice startled him and he jerked his hand away, looking up. Daryl still had his eyes closed, his breathing as smooth as it had been moments earlier. Rick shook his head, the rustle of his beard dragging against the pillow loud in the silence around them, and closed his eyes.

Daryl waited until Rick fell asleep, before he opened his eyes and let himself look at their leader. Even asleep, Rick’s forehead had that little frown to it, his jaw set tight as if he was still fighting something. Daryl looked down between them, noticing how Rick’s hand twiched, fingers fisting in the sheets, before they relaxed a bit, only to tense up again. A shiver went through Rick, jolting his whole frame, and he curled up a bit. Daryl’s eyes traveled to the comforter at the foot of the bed. He got up carefully, trying not to jostle the mattress too much and grabbed the edge of the comforter, pulling it over Rick, covering him up to his chest. There was a small sniffle of a breath and then Rick settled down, the hand that had been fisting the sheets relaxing. Daryl smiled and grabbed his crossbow. Before he left the room, he glanced back at Rick to make sure the man was still asleep. Something warm spread through his insides when he spotted Rick’s arm thrown to the side, fingers twisting in the bedding in Daryl’s previous spot.

 

-&-

 

_It was dark. A dark corridor and dark rooms all around. Rick was standing in the middle of it, looking around - no entrance, no exit. His hands were wet and cold, but for the life of him he didn’t know why._

_There was someone behind him and Rick had a suspicion he knew that someone, but details were fuzzy and murky, thoughts all smashed together in his head to the point of no recognition._

_He moved forward, taking a cautious step. There was a hole in the floor, he knew that. He had to walk around it, but no matter how much he strained his eyes, he couldn’t see shit. One step, two steps, three careful steps… the fourth step made the whole building around him rumble and he froze. And then something gave and Rick was falling, tumbling down into the void, hands flailing at his sides to try and stop the momentum. Nothing seemed to help and the ground was getting closer, and closer, and…_

Rick woke up with a jolt, opening his mouth in a silent scream. He couldn’t breathe for a moment, the walls of the room around him feeling uncomfortably constraining. He looked around, panic and adrenaline coursing through him, only to find the room empty. Daryl wasn’t there, Michonne wasn’t there… there was no one there. Rick glanced to the side, expecting to find Daryl’s nest of blankets on the floor, but that _wasn’t there,_ either.

He tried to get up, he knew he needed to. They had probably already left, he was supposed to join them. Heaving himself up from the bed was difficult, though. There was a weight in his belly that pulled him down, kept him immobile. All he could move were his hands, but he was too weak to even turn around. How was he supposed to actually _get up?_

Feeling panic rising inside him again, Rick looked down the length of his body. His belly was curved, but it wasn’t round yet.

Maybe if he got the baby out somehow…

He knew he shouldn’t. He knew that Daryl wouldn’t be happy with him screwing himself up. But Daryl wasn’t there, and wherever he was, Rick wanted to be there, too. _Not here, with that alien creature inside him._

Seeing no other choice, knowing there was no other way out, Rick brought his hand to his abdomen. He ran one fingernail over his skin, wondering if it would even work. The trail his nail left turned bloody red immediately, the skin opening up easily. Rick inhaled a sharp breath, surprised at how dull the sensation was. _It wasn’t even pain, it felt just like a scratch._

_Encouraged, Rick dug his nails into his skin, gritting his teeth. Blood started to seep out of him, covering his fingers and coloring them crimson. He kept on going until suddenly, his hands didn’t want to move. He tried to get back to what he was doing, he needed to get rid of this thing inside him, but his fingers were frozen and his wrists hung suspended in the air like a puppet._

_The pause made the creature inside him move._

_Rick screamed._

“WAKE UP!”

Rick sat up so abruptly, he collided with something. There was a grunted out “Fuck!” and Rick blinked, trying to clear his eyes of the mist that clouded them. Through the haze, he saw a figure and scrambled back, as far away as he could, bringing his knees up in front of his chest when he ran out of space behind him. There was a dull throbbing in his forehead and he pressed his hand to it, trying to massage it away. It worked after a moment and, when his vision was finally clear, Rick looked up.

Daryl was standing next to the bed, eyes surprisingly wide, a bloody trail running down his nose. Rick had his mouth open and ready to ask what had happened to him, when his brain reminded him of his forehead. He snapped his mouth shut again and let his head drop to his knees.   
“Sorry,” Rick mumbled. He didn’t know what else to say, really.   
“Mhm...” Daryl hummed, the sound muffled by his stuffed nose. There was some rustling nearby, but Rick didn’t look up. Instead, he focused on bringing his breathing back to normal. He tried to find something else to redirect his thoughts to, something that didn’t involve the creatu… _A song!_ There was a song that Carol had been humming the day before. It was an old one and Rick knew the lyrics to it. He started to recite them in a low whisper, not stopping until his muscles relaxed.

He couldn’t really tell how long he had sat like this, just that the rustling next to him stopped and something tapped at his shin. He jerked his head up, startled out of his mantra of lyrics, spotting Daryl - nose still red - handing him a handkerchief. Rick frowned. It wasn’t Daryl’s usual red rag - the material was white and it had a monogram in one corner.   
“Yer bleedin’,” the hunter explained when Rick just stared at him.

Daryl waited patiently until Rick finally reached out to take the handkerchief from him. Just before he could grab it, though, Rick’s gaze focused on his own fingers, noticing the blood caked under the nails. Daryl could see the precise moment his brain made the connection. Rick took in a shaky breath and wrapped his hand around the soft fabric, closing his eyes and blocking everything out. Daryl thought he should give Rick some time to collect himself, so he stood up slowly.   
“There’s…  crackers for breakfast, if ya want,” he informed, trying to sound casual not to make Rick worry about his own reaction. “‘m gonna clean up.” He waved his hand at his own face. Rick nodded without looking at him, sighing softly.

He waited for Daryl to leave the room, gripping the handkerchief in numb fingers, until he was sitting there alone. Taking a deep breath, Rick looked down at the t-shirt he was wearing. His gaze skittered over the dark stains on the front, the color reminding him of his dream, and Rick closed his eyes tightly. _If it had only been this simple and easy…_

Gritting his teeth, Rick tugged the hem up, wincing when he saw the mess. The skin was reddened, puffy in a few places, broken in others. Blood was still seeping out from two particularly deep scratches and he pressed the hanky to them, trying to stop his fingers from shaking. He looked around, spotting a half-empty bottle of water standing near the bed. _Daryl must have brought it with him earlier._ Rick cast one more glance at his abdomen, before he got out of bed gingerly and grabbed the bottle. He spilled some on the handkerchief and started to meticulously clean his skin. It didn’t help with the scratches and open wounds he already had, but at least he felt a bit less dirty this way, and once he was done, the nightmare he had just had finally stopped flashing through his mind.

Using a bit more water, he wet the front of his t-shirt and rubbed it between his fingers, trying to dissolve some of the blood on it. It worked for the most part, and soon, there were just grotesque pink stains on the soft material. Rick shrugged, deciding it was as good as it was going to get and drank the rest of the water, hoping it would help to settle the uneasy feeling in his stomach.

 

-&-

 

They moved out later that morning. The old house had been too destroyed to provide shelter for their whole family for longer than one night. They walked along a barely visible path between tall trees. It was so grown-over that for the most part they just relayed on Daryl to keep them on the right track, weapons ready in case trouble came along.

They stopped for a quick break about three hours into their travel, picking a small clearing for their resting place. Daryl went out into the woods in search of game, but came up empty-handed, so they had to divide the last of their food, hoping it would be enough. Rick gave his portion to Carl, claiming he wasn’t hungry anyway, which was partially true - he had lost his appetite sometime between waking up and cleaning the scratches. Logically, he knew that he should eat something, but after the pack of crackers Daryl had sat him through in the morning, he still felt decidedly _not hungry._

He also felt that it would have been a lot easier to keep telling himself that, if it hadn’t been for Daryl’s concerned look Rick had been gifted with.

They continued their walk shortly after - it was stupid to just sit around and lose the light. Besides, they needed to find some kind of shelter for the oncoming night. It took them a while to get through the thickest part of the forest, but once they did, a very interesting sight greeted them.

A man was sitting on a rock surrounded by walkers. He was screaming for help - it had been what alerted their group to his presence in the first place. Rick didn’t like him from his screams alone, but Carl had dragged them to help him and here they were, killing a few of the dead ones efficiently and cleanly. They helped him climb down and the guy immediately puked all over his shoes. Rick’s eyebrows rose in surprise - how could anyone survive this long into the apocalypse and still be throwing up when they faced walkers was beyond him.

He got his answer a few moments later.

The guy’s name was Gabriel and he was a priest. He didn’t smell like an omega and was a bit too weak in character for an alpha, so Rick hazarded a guess that the man was a beta. How he had ended up alone on a rock was a mystery though. But Gabriel promised a church and that sounded exactly like the thing they all needed right now, so they went with him.

 

-&-

 

The church was small but well boarded up. Gabriel’s supplies were running low, but there was still plenty of food to share, which they did, after learning there was a small town nearby that could provide more. All they had to do was to make a supply run, so Rick wasn’t worried. A town also promised a pharmacy or a doctor’s office, and if it was as deserted as Gabriel said, maybe they could find him the pills he so desperately needed. That train of thoughts brought a tentative smile to his face and it stayed there for the rest of the evening.

After they ate, Rick sat down on the floor with his back to one of the pews. He had Judith cradled in his arms and Daryl sitting nearby, and he could nearly forget about his troubles for a minute or two. He let his daughter feed him bits of food, making a show of chewing the small morsels just to make her laugh. It was good to relax for a moment, to just sit there and listen to his family chatting happily around him.

When Abraham stood up and started his little speech, Rick almost expected a fight to follow it. But a minute into the long-winded story, he understood what Abe was doing - he couldn’t really force his way into decision-making of their group, so he tried to change his tactics and went for reason and heroism. Rick might not agree with him in all he said, but the man had a point, and Rick definitely valued the way he kept the angry alpha inside him at bay and aimed for people’s hearts. It spoke well of him and somehow put him on Rick’s mental list labeled ‘Family’. After all, changing tactics when the situation called for it and showing the gentler side when it was necessary were both good traits that Rick could get behind.

They all decided to go to Washington after a few days’ rest. The church was secure enough to hole up in for a while and Rick felt more tired than he had in a long time. He looked down at Judith, watching her get drowsy. As she yawned sleepily in that cute way only kids can do, Rick wondered what was different about her and Carl that made him love them. They would always be his most important things in the world, his reason for living and making it. When he thought about the world _after,_ about how it could look if they ever managed to settle down, he saw Judith and Carl there, being safe and happy, growing up and having a life of their own. Why were his feelings so different then, when it came to that _thing_ inside him?

Rick frowned and got up, keeping Judith safely within his arms. He walked to the side and stopped next to a makeshift cradle Daryl had made for his daughter. It was just two pews stuck together so that they formed a place to sleep in with high barriers on each side, something to stop Judith from rolling off in the middle of the night. Daryl had spread his ridiculous, colorful blanket over the hard surface and Rick smiled seeing this. He put Judith down gently, running the pads of his fingers over her head, smoothing out her hair. She grimaced and yawned again, before she settled into a deep sleep.

The night was getting colder by the hour and Rick thought about getting something to cover her with. He turned to look around, but before he could even glance properly behind him, a hand holding a winged vest appeared in his line of vision.   
“Here,” Daryl whispered and handed him the vest. Rick took it with a nod and laid it gingerly over Judith, making sure it was good and tight around her to stave off the chilly air.   
“Thank you,” he whispered back, giving one last glance at his sleeping daughter, before he turned around. He nodded at Carl, letting him know that Judith was under his watch now. His son answered by getting up and changing places to sit closer to his little sister, shirt tucked behind the knife he had attached to his belt.

By silent agreement, Rick and Daryl took their blankets and spread them under one of the church windows. Rick’s was closer to the wall, Daryl’s just a foot from Rick’s. They got down on them fully clothed, ready to jump into action in case the priest had some ace up his sleeve that he hadn’t revealed yet. But the night was quiet, filled with low chatter coming from their family and a sense of peacefulness, and Daryl found himself drifting off quickly. The last couple of days had been too draining to keep the exhaustion at bay, so he turned on his side, facing Rick, taking in his features, before he closed his eyes and let the sleep pull him under.

 

-&-

 

Rick stayed awake long after Daryl had fallen asleep. He kept his eyes closed in hope of getting some rest, finally, but his mind was still racing.

His thoughts jumped from his family and its safety, to the church they were in right now, to the way Gabriel seemed unthreatening enough to cut him some slack. Rick hadn’t gotten any bad vibes from the priest for the whole evening, and it was only his past that was still murky. But, Rick reckoned, all of them had done something horrible before, Rick included, so maybe it was better to leave the past in the past. Right now, Gabriel provided them with a roof over their heads and a good, tasty dinner - maybe it would be worth it to keep the man around? It wasn’t like they could just kill everyone they came across.

There was a quiet huff next to him, and Rick turned his head to the side, opening his eyes and gazing at Daryl. He was sleeping peacefully, his breathing shallow but even, with a quiet huffing that had grabbed Rick’s attention.

Lying like this, right next to the hunter, Rick felt safe and cared for. Those were both very tentative feelings, but he could definitely feel them inside, flashing through his mind and putting him at ease. Daryl always made sure to keep him as comfortable as he could, and this line of thoughts took Rick deeper into his own mind and heart. He started to ponder the possibility of him being with Daryl, of forming a relationship together. It was easy to do it like this, in the middle of the night, with their family still talking in hushed voices a few feet from them.

Rick knew what relationships entailed… closeness and intimacy were a hard topic for him right now, but when he let his mind drift back to the last two weeks, he could see how Daryl coaxed him back into those things. Back in the day, when they had been living happily in the prison, when they were going on runs together, they had usually ended up sleeping close to each other for warmth and safety. After Joe… all that had been ruined for Rick. But Daryl’s patience and his approach caused some feelings to settle for Rick.

Sure, he was still wary about touching in general, but once he got through the initial jolt of panic every time Daryl reached out his hand towards him, he could actually enjoy their closeness. But, was it enough to ensure Rick’s positive reception of _another type of closeness?_

They were an alpha and an omega. Rick wasn’t stupid. He knew his heat will come sooner or later… In fact, he was starting to think he had been on the brink of one those two weeks ago. It must have been what had prompted Joe to change his tactics and attack Rick instead of killing him on the spot. It also explained why he had gotten pregnant so easily. Usually it was near-impossible to get an omega pregnant outside of his heat… it did happen occasionally, but it was so uncommon, nobody really tried.

Rick sighed and turned to his side, facing Daryl, gaze traveling over his relaxed features.

Thinking about how gentle Daryl had been with him so far, Rick could actually see a future for them. Not with wild, heat-fueled, furniture-breaking sex, but maybe, just _maybe_ , with some kind of intimacy that would satisfy the both of them. With soft kisses and gentle hands holding each other close at night. With happy smiles in the morning, interlaced with careful, exploring fingers…

Rick closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was all so far into the future that it could as well be just an impossible dream. No matter how much he wanted all this, Rick still had a long way to go. But for now, Daryl was still here, sleeping next to him.

Feeling bolder after his little introspective, Rick decided to take a step towards getting better. There was only one way to make his dreams come true, and it was to move forward.

Rick shifted on his blanket - a few awkward motions that would have looked ridiculous in the light of day - and found himself leaning over the space between him and Daryl. He reached with one hand, encouraged by the quietness around them, and tentatively placed it on Daryl’s arm. The shirt Daryl had on felt warm under Rick’s fingers, the soft, worn-out material tickling his palm. Rick started to brush his thumb over it before he even realized what he was doing. The delicate touch must have woken Daryl up, because the arm under Rick’s fingers tensed suddenly.

“Rick?” Daryl whispered, turning to the side, looking at Rick with sleepy eyes.   
“Sorry,” Rick responded automatically, taking his hand back and tucking it against his chest. His eyes remained glued to Daryl’s face, though, taking in his hunter’s tired features. Daryl was a bit more awake now, but Rick could tell that as soon as he declared them all safe and got a green light from Rick, he would be asleep again. They all needed it, Rick knew that, too. Suddenly, he felt like an ass for waking Daryl up.

“What’s wrong?” Daryl asked in a low voice, stifling a yawn.   
“Everything’s fine. I just couldn’t sleep. Sorry for waking you.” Rick tried not to think too much into the way Daryl frowned as he took Rick in. He appeared to be thinking something over, before he grabbed the edge of the blanket he was lying on. As Rick watched, Daryl made a few very awkward moves and shuffled himself closer, dragging the blanket with him to close the gap between them. Once he was settled, he stretched one arm high above Rick’s head and looked at him with a gaze so gentle, Rick was almost sure he would have a heart attack.

“Come ‘ere” Daryl murmured, waiting for Rick to make the move. Rick shifted closer and laid his head on Daryl’s shoulder, sighing when the angle turned out to be just perfect. He placed his own hand on Daryl’s chest, enjoying the feeling of Daryl’s threadbare shirt under his fingertips. One of Daryl’s arms stayed high above his head, but the second traveled up Rick’s arm, from his hand that was resting over Daryl’s heart to his shoulder, before the fingers tangled in his hair. Rick hummed and Daryl turned a bit more towards him. Rick’s heart nearly stopped beating when Daryl’s lips touched his cheek gently. It lasted for a second, there and gone, but it still made Rick jerk his head up to look at the hunter.

Daryl had that thoughtful look on his face again, illuminated only by the pale light of the moon filtering through the church windows, and Rick felt his insides flutter when Daryl moved again. This time the kiss landed on Rick’s lips and he froze, a hundred of different scenarios floating through his mind at the speed of light.

_What now? Do they make out and go to sleep? Will Daryl want more? Could Rick provide? What if he couldn’t? Will the alpha side of Daryl finally decide he wasn’t worth the effort? What effort? What the hell were they even doing?_

But this kiss lasted no longer than the previous one, a chaste press of lips, just enough to make Rick’s whole body tingle. Daryl leaned back as soon as it was over, his calculating gaze slipping over Rick’s features as if he tried to figure something out.

“Sorry.” Daryl whispered finally, tearing Rick out of his own panicked thoughts, and it was Rick’s time to frown in question. “Yer shakin’,” Daryl explained, his fingers moving slowly through Rick’s hair.   
“I’m okay…” Rick tried to stop the quaking that had taken his body by surprise, but it was difficult without wrapping his arms around Daryl and holding onto him like he had done in the train car at Terminus.   
“Yeah?”   
“I’m… I don’t know.” Rick hesitated and shook his head miserably. But apparently, Daryl did know. His fingers continued their soothing caress through Rick’s curls and his other arm came down and wrapped itself around Rick’s shoulders.   
“Sleep, alright?” Daryl prompted quietly. Rick nodded, closing his eyes and trying to calm down his body. A few deep breaths full of Daryl’s scent were enough to lull him back into sleep. If Daryl had something to say about both of Rick’s arms fisting tightly in his worn-out shirt, he never voiced it aloud.

 

-&-

 

After Rick had fallen into his restless sleep, Daryl stayed awake, still holding him and keeping watch in case Rick’s nightmares returned. He didn’t know what had prompted him to kiss Rick. Maybe it was the alpha inside him, reacting to an omega in distress? Maybe it was just that Rick had felt so good next to him, his scent getting sweeter with every moment he had spent pressed against Daryl? Maybe Daryl cared about him a lot more than he was supposed to?

Whatever it was, Daryl was happy that he had done it. It seemed to put Rick at ease - he had fallen asleep soon after the kiss, something that was a feat in and of itself… Daryl was very familiar with Rick’s nightmares by now and he knew that sometimes Rick would prefer to stay awake to keep them at bay.

But now he was here, curled up in Daryl’s arms, trusting him to keep their family safe, to keep _Rick_ safe, and Daryl felt his own eyes misting over. He blinked the wetness away and frowned, trying to come up with a reason as to why it mattered to him so much suddenly. Keeping each other safe had been a part of their life for a long time now, so it couldn’t be the novelty of those feelings that made Daryl’s eyes sting and burn. He closed them.

Taking a long breath full of Rick’s scent, he let himself drift off. A quick nap wouldn’t be a bad idea, especially when they had a supply run planned on the next day.


	8. Mai mi aspettavo di avere paura così

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who do you turn to in the darkest hour? 
> 
> Enjoy!

When Rick woke up the next morning, he was immediately aware of two things - he was the last one who had still been sleeping, and he was wrapped tightly in Daryl’s blanket. Those two facts made his sleep-fuzzy brain a bit confused, but he shook it off quickly and got up, trying to ignore the memories of the previous night that had started to flood his mind.

“Want some breakfast?” Abraham’s voice was level when he asked this instead of greeting Rick, and he shook his head ‘no’. He wasn’t hungry, a bit thirsty perhaps, so he made a beeline for the nearest bottle of water and chugged down half of it. Only after he had screwed the cap back on, did Rick realize that the only people inside the church were him and Abraham.   
“Where’s everyone?”   
“Out. Preparing for the supply run we talked about yesterday,” Abe explained, fiddling with something in his hand. Rick nodded his thanks and headed out, taking the bottle with him.

“Mornin’.” Daryl’s gruffy voice reached Rick as soon as he had stepped on the little porch the church had. Rick nodded at him and eyed the car standing in front of the church. It was an old, beaten-up sedan. It looked like it was barely holding itself in one piece, but if Daryl deemed it good enough for the run, then it would do.  
“Who’s on the roster?” Rick asked, looking around. He could see Glenn sitting in the car already, Michonne standing behind and rearranging their backpacks in the trunk.   
“Glenn, Michonne, me… Gabriel, too,” Daryl answered, lighting his cigarette and shouldering his crossbow. Rick watched him take a long drag of the smoke.

“I wanna go, too,” Rick said quietly, eyes drifting to the car. He had a feeling that if he stayed here, he would end up sitting around for the whole day and thinking, and that never bode well. God forbid the memories of the previous night would come crawling back…   
“Ya sure ya up for this?” Daryl eyed him, but his gaze wasn’t judgemental, rather curious. Rick shrugged.   
“I’ll be okay,” he muttered. He still felt tired, so he knew he probably looked like death warmed over. One restful night wasn’t enough to sleep off the last few weeks of constant traveling. He knew Daryl saw it, too. Thankfully, his friend didn’t comment on that and just nodded, taking another drag of the cigarette and shifting his gaze to the car.

They took off as soon as Rick packed his own backpack - only necessary items, extra ammo, an additional knife, a blanket, two bottles of water and something to snack on. The road was clear of walkers and people alike, and Rick felt a bit more awake by the time they reached the small town Gabriel had been talking about.

 

-&-

 

“Stop there.” Rick pointed at an old-looking pharmacy. It looked completely plundered with its broken windows and barely-hanging doors. Glenn eyed it sceptically.   
“I doubt we’ll find anything there,” he muttered, but he still parked the car right in front of the building. Daryl got out first, looking around for possible threat, crossbow loaded and aimed at the head level. Rick stepped out of the car with his Python raised, but a quick glance around told him they were in no danger. He nodded to Daryl and they both lowered their weapons.

“Guys, I really don’t think we’ll find anything useful in here,” Glenn said as soon as he got out of the car, Michonne following.   
Daryl just shrugged. “Worth a try. It’s abandoned anyway.” He sent a sideways glance to Rick, before he walked around the car and opened the passenger door behind which Gabriel was sitting. “Come on.”

They waited until Gabriel crawled out of the car. Once they were all ready, they walked into the pharmacy, noting in relief that it was, indeed, abandoned. The shelves were messed up, some of them lying on the floor, some of them barely hanging on the walls. There really wasn’t anything worthwhile anywhere in sight, but that didn’t deter Rick and Daryl. They started to ransack the place methodically, flipping the fallen shelves over and checking underneath, opening drawers and boxes, tearing through half-empty cabinets. Michonne wandered further into the pharmacy, rooting through a stack of boxes left next to the far wall.

All through that Gabriel and Glenn stood next to the door, stupefied expressions plastered on their faces.   
“Rick, there’s _nothing_ here!” Glenn had troubles keeping the exasperation out of his voice. Rick ignored him, going on with his search, but Daryl rounded up and scowled at Glenn, holding up a box of something.   
“T’is ain’t nothin’!” He growled, tossing the box at Glenn. He caught it easily and turned it around to read the label. _Bandaids._   
“Guys, what the hell are we _looking_ for?”

“Pills!” Daryl gruffed out, turning back around and searching through a small cabinet which was smeared with blood.   
“Pills?” Glenn asked, eyebrows raising.   
“Abortion pills.” Rick clarified in a matter-of-fact tone. His voice was low, but Glenn still heard it loud and clear.   
“Oh god…” He muttered, running his hand over his face. “Who - ” he started, but Daryl’s growl stopped him short.   
“Just help us look - ”   
“What?!” Gabriel almost shouted, making all four of them turn and look at him. His eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open in disbelief.

Gabriel stared at them with a sheepish expression on his face, almost as if he had only now realized just how loud his question had been. He put on a nervous smile that made Rick cringe.   
“The Lord has told us to love everyone, has he not?” The priest asked. “He told us not to kill, not to - ” he broke off as soon as Daryl snarled. The hunter strode towards him, his whole posture screaming _danger_ , and Rick decided to do something to stop the bloodshed. He stepped between them quickly, ducking his head and trying to catch Daryl’s fiery eyes.

“Hey,” he whispered quietly, hoping to catch Daryl’s attention. “He ain’t worth it, Daryl. Okay? He ain’t worth it,” Rick soothed, breathing a quick sigh when Daryl’s eyes finally focused on him. Daryl huffed and glared at Gabriel over Rick’s shoulder some more, before he turned around and stomped away, getting back to his search. Rick looked to the side, spotting Michonne with one hand on her gun, ready to fire if needed. He shook his head at her and got back to searching, too. Glenn just waited at the door, keeping watch.

 

-&-

 

They didn’t find anything in the pharmacy, so they moved on to the next spot, a small house that seemed to be in a fairly good condition. Rick hoped they would find something in here at last, even if it was just a _morning after pill._ Anything would be better than nothing, and at this point, Rick was ready to try everything he could. Even if the chances of it working were slim to none. He just couldn’t picture himself giving birth, not now… not _ever_. This _thing_ inside him made him want to throw up every time he stopped consciously blocking the thoughts about it from his mind and they came back with double force.

He shook his head and grabbed his Python, motioning for Glenn and Michonne to stay put… well, to keep tabs on Gabriel, but still. Rick felt better when his two friends were ready for anything. Rick looked back at Daryl and nodded at him to lead the way. They entered the house slowly, both on high alert, glancing around to assess the possible threat.

It was quiet and walker-free inside, a small miracle in a place like this. They made a quick sweep of the rooms, before Daryl declared it safe enough to lower their weapons and get to searching the place. They did so meticulously, room after room, cabinet after cabinet, drawer after drawer.

Rick went for the back of the house first, while Daryl started at the front. It helped them to cover more ground, instead of just double checking one room at the same time. Rick walked into the biggest bedroom in the house, going for the bedside table immediately. It was empty, except for condoms, which he packed, forcing himself to think about the needs of the others and ignoring his own instincts screaming at him to turn away and get out of there. He checked under the bed next, then under the mattress. He found an envelope there, addressed to ‘Robert’. Opening it, Rick pulled out a birthday card with a cartoon dinosaur on it. Inside, a simple ‘Happy Birthday! - Josh’ was written in bold, sketchy writing, and Rick frowned, putting the card away.

He went to the chest of drawers standing in one corner, opened it and looked through the contents. There was nothing useful in there, and Rick was slowly losing hope. People usually kept pills in the kitchen, in the bathroom, or in the bedroom… If they weren’t here - and there was no triumphant shout from Daryl who was ransacking the kitchen and the bathroom - then they probably weren’t in the house at all. Rick slumped against the nearest wall, the reality of his situation suddenly too much to handle. He slid down on shaky legs until he was sitting on the hard floor, looking down at his knees.

_They weren’t going to find those pills._

He ran his hands over his face, trying to ignore how they shook. If there were no pills to be found - not here, not _anywhere,_ it seemed - Rick’s options were very limited. He should probably look for a sharp knife… maybe an actual scalpel? God knew, it would probably be easier to find that.

Rick wondered what Daryl would say to such a change of plans. Would he be mad? Scared? Rick didn’t know, he didn’t dare to think what telling Daryl _that_ would do to his friend. Daryl was an alpha, he was made to protect and care for others… for _omegas_ especially. Omegas like Rick -

_Oh fuck!_

Rick blinked stupidly, still staring at his knees. Daryl was an _alpha,_ and he was a pregnant _omega_ , and there was a natural way to…

_No._

Rick shook his head and got up. He brushed off his trousers and moved to the next room.

There was a natural way, something omegas and alphas had used for centuries, but Rick knew it wouldn’t be easy. It required mating and bonding, and Rick was well aware that he wasn’t anywhere near ready for _that_ yet… but. _But_. Knowing he would have no other choice if they didn’t find any pills soon, Rick let himself think about this possibility, too. He didn’t want it to go this way, but if the circumstances pushed him to make a choice - Daryl or a knife - he would pick Daryl. He trusted Daryl not to hurt him, he trusted Daryl to keep him safe. He would trust Daryl with this, too, if it came to that.

Taking a calming breath to clear his head a little, Rick started the search in another room.

 

-&-

 

The little house they had ransacked looking for pills, _looking for hope,_ had seemed promising enough - it was modern and well-boarded up. Upon entering, though, Daryl knew their chances at finding anything were slim to none. They found painkillers and some antibiotics, a pack of condoms and some lube, but there were no abortion pills or any other meds for that matter.

Daryl huffed angrily as he dropped his backpack on the floor in the living room.   
“Fuck this place,” he growled, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. Rick watched him take a few furious inhales, following the smoke with his eyes when Daryl puffed it out.   
“It’s okay, maybe we’ll find something in the next one,” he tried to reason, but he wasn’t sure who he was placating now - Daryl or himself. With every moment, with every house searched unsuccessfully, he was feeling worse and worse. The clock was ticking and Rick felt like suffocating with every second passing by.

“Just… Just wish there was another way,” Daryl sighed, a bit calmer now, finishing his smoke and stubbing it out on the first available surface. Rick looked to the side for a moment, biting his lip when he thought about the solution that had been at the back of his head.

“There is a way… _You_ can help.” Rick’s blue eyes lifted up to him and Daryl opened his mouth to ask ‘what?’ before the realization came crashing down on him.   
“No… _No!_ ” Daryl shook his head, taking a step back. Not this.

He _couldn’t._

It was a well established fact that if an unmated omega got pregnant, they should not mate and bond with anyone else until the child was born, as this would cause a miscarriage - a fact that used to be exploited in the previous century, as if the leftover of their animalistic nature was some kind of a safety valve. Thankfully, later on, people had gotten a better grasp of medicine and the day-after pills had been introduced, and nobody had to do _this_ anymore.

Daryl looked at Rick, shaking his head when his friend started to say something. Daryl couldn’t listen, not right now. He needed _out_ , he needed to get away for a moment, lest he explode. He turned and picked up his bow, walking out of the little house, feet carrying him into the forest. Daryl strode past their friends waiting at the car, brushing off their concerned looks with a quiet growl of “leave me alone.” He didn’t even go far, just a couple of yards into the woods, before he sat down under one of the trees, the crossbow slipping from his grip and landing with a soft thud among the rustle of leaves.

He couldn’t do it. Rick still jumped a foot high in the air whenever someone touched him unexpectedly. He still woke up several times a night, whimpering more often than not, eyes wild the second they opened in the darkness of the night. He never knew anymore if he was hungry until Daryl reminded him about food, he didn’t drink until Daryl shoved a bottle of water into his hand. At night, Rick would just keep going until he collapsed, unless Daryl beckoned him to the first empty house he found and got him to sleep for a while… at least until another nightmare struck him. Daryl couldn’t even imagine how Rick could ask him to bond with him in that state. It wasn’t a decision one made when their head was in another orbit.

And it didn’t matter one bit that Daryl had always wanted to bond with Rick. Ever since he had met the man in the quarry, Daryl had been more than interested in Rick. During the months spent together, he had grown to love this man, their fearless leader, the only omega Daryl could ever love. He had loved Rick for a long time now and he had been waiting for a good moment to tell Rick. But the time had always been wrong. First, Lori had died, then the prison had fallen… After what Joe and the rest of those fuckers had done to Rick, Daryl had thought that the best thing he could do was to wait a little more. He couldn’t bring himself to dump all his feelings on Rick right now, not when the man was an emotional wreck, wound tighter than the string in Daryl’s crossbow.

And then Rick went and asked him to… what? _Rape_ him, too? Daryl cringed hard thinking about it. He knew well what bonding entailed, he knew how it happened. He would have to fuck Rick and bite him, hopefully putting an end to the pregnancy.   
“Fuck!” Daryl shouted, kicking his crossbow, watching as it moved only a bit, digging into a pile of leaves instead of flying across the forest floor. It should have flown, it would have probably lightened Daryl’s mood. He took a deep breath and pushed his face into his hands. _He couldn’t do it._

 

-&-

 

“I’m sorry.” Rick’s voice reached Daryl. He twisted around, glancing behind the tree he was sitting under, and spotted Rick standing just a few feet away from him. He looked sad, almost guilty, and Daryl shook his head, turning back to look at the forest in front of him. Soft footsteps broke the silence around him as Rick walked closer, his cowboy boots rustling through the leaves.

“Why?” Daryl asked quietly, knowing Rick would hear him. There was a sigh next to him, and then, Rick was sitting down next to Daryl, leaning back on the same tree. He didn’t say anything for a longer moment, but Daryl didn’t rush him. He took another cigarette and lit it, puffing out the smoke in a big, ominous cloud. When Rick finally spoke, his voice was wavering.

“I trust you,” he almost whispered, not trusting himself to speak louder. “I trust _only_ you, Daryl. I thought we’d find those pills…”   
“Still might,” Daryl gruffed out and took another drag. Rick shook his head miserably.   
“Look around. There ain’t no pills anywhere.”   
“Fuck.” Daryl sighed, picking up a small flower and fingering the petals. “Wish I was bigger when mah grandma was still alive,” he mused. “Knew lots ‘bout herbs and flowers… She would take me an’ Merle to her place when mah father was ravin’. Baked us cookies an’ all.”   
“She sounds really nice,” Rick added, looking to the side and seeing Daryl nod slowly.   
“She’d know what t’ do now… I don’t. I don’t wanna hurt ya, Rick. And with what yer askin’...” Daryl trailed off, staring at the flower in his hand. Rick shuddered. He knew what bonding entailed - there was always sex involved. Something about hormones that got released during those moments was knocking about at the back of his mind. Rick knew it could break him for good. But it was better than a cold blade.

“Keeping the…” Rick said, then paused, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. “Keeping the _baby_ would be worse, Daryl. I can’t do it. Just thinking about having it inside me makes me wanna throw up. I feel like I’m being sucked into a big, dark ocean. It’s worse than - ” he broke off, closing his eyes, trying to collect himself. He hated what he was feeling, but it didn’t _stop_ him from feeling it. “It’s worse than Lori,” Rick whispered finally, choking down on a sob.

There was a rustle of leaves and some shuffling, and when Rick opened his eyes, Daryl was standing in front of him, one hand outstretched, the other gripping his crossbow with white-knuckled fingers.   
“Come on. They’re probably worried,” Daryl muttered and Rick took the offered hand.

 

-&-

 

The next run was a failure when it came to any kind of medicine. They scored with food and other supplies, almost literally fishing boxes and crates out from a flooded cellar full of walkers. Rick went on that run with Michonne, Bob, Sasha and Gabriel. Daryl took another group - Glenn and Maggie - and lead them in another direction, on the outskirts of the town. He filled them in on what they were looking for - resolutely omitting _who_ needed the pills - and they all went searching.

They came up empty-handed.

Back in the church, Daryl could feel his heart twisting painfully when he told that to Rick. Their leader just nodded back at him, trying to look as if it didn’t affect him at all, but Daryl could see the way his shoulders slumped a little and his eyes got a bit sadder. He knew Rick was trying to hold it all in, but Daryl could still see the cracks in his armor. It was painful to watch.

 

-&-

 

In the evening, they all gathered around their supplies, celebrating a good run. There was enough food to last them a while and Rick and his group even managed to find some booze, so their spirits were lifted considerably. Well, _most_ of their spirits - Rick, Daryl and Michonne were the only quiet people in the group, sitting on the side of it, looking almost mournful. Glenn glanced from Rick to Michonne a few times, a frown deepening on his forehead as the time went by, but he never said anything. Rick ignored him.

The feast stretched well into the night. Once Abraham returned from his watch - being changed by Bob - they drank some more. Rick and Daryl excused themselves, going to their spot by the window and lying down on the blankets. They were still placed close together, forming a cozy nest for them to sleep in.

Daryl thought about whether he should coax Rick into lying closer or wait for the inevitable nightmares to strike again, but Rick took that decision from him. He crawled on the blanket and pulled another one around himself. He curled up on his side and, facing the wall, fell still and quiet. Daryl watched him for a long time, trying to ignore the space between them. He fisted his hand in his own blanket when his instincts screamed at him to move closer to Rick. He knew he shouldn’t - _couldn’t -_ not when Rick clearly wanted to avoid him.

Letting out a quiet sigh, Daryl steeled himself for a restless night. He knew he wouldn’t really sleep, not with Rick suffering in his own head, lying just a foot away from him.

 

-&-

 

On the next day, Daryl was surprised to see that he was alone when he woke up. Rick was nowhere to be seen, and Daryl frowned, his mind running a thousand scenarios in his head. All of them were bad.

He jumped up from the blankets and looked around the church, spotting Michonne sitting on one of the pews. She was sharpening a knife - it looked ridiculously small in her hand, almost mocking - and Daryl regretted her not having her sword anymore. It had gotten lost somewhere in Terminus, and they hadn’t found a new one for her yet.

She flashed him a smile when he approached.   
“Ya seen Rick?” Daryl asked, skipping pleasantries. He needed to know Rick was okay, his inner alpha was almost howling at him to find the man and make sure he was fine and unharmed.   
“He’s outside,” Michonne eyed him. “He went to whittle some spikes for stray walkers to put around the church’s entrance.”   
“Thanks,” Daryl grumbled, turning to walk away, but Michonne’s voice stopped him dead in his tracks.   
“Daryl… Bob’s missing,” she said carefully. Daryl spun around so fast his vision blurred.

 _“What!?”_ He asked, surprised. “He had the night watch yesterday!”   
“I know,” Michonne nodded solemnly, eyes darkening. “He went out and never came back. Sasha wanted to change him in the morning, but he was nowhere to be seen.”   
“Fuck!” Daryl cursed, stomping down the urge to punch something. “Walkers?”   
“We don’t know.” She shook her head slightly. “His footprints lead to the woods, then it’s just leaves and not much to go on,” she explained. Daryl nodded and walked out, intent on finding Rick and looking for Bob… In that order.

It turned out, he didn’t have to look for Rick for long. He was just around the corner, standing next to a pile of freshly chopped branches, thick enough to be turned into walker spikes. Daryl didn’t waste any time in calling Rick - god knew what was waiting for them in the forest - and just strode to him in hurried steps.

 

-&-

 

Rick had woken up early in the morning, another nightmare making him twitch and jolt, until he had finally shaken himself awake. He had decided that he had enough of lying down and, needing something to do to occupy his mind, he had wandered out of the church to make himself useful.

And now he was here, four spikes done already, when he felt that his knife was slipping on the surface of the wood. Rick paused, looking down at it. He tested the sharpness with his thumb, wincing when he felt just how blunt the blade was. He would have to take it to Michonne, or maybe just borrow her whetstone… He rubbed his abdomen through his t-shirt absentmindedly - it was itching, probably the scratch-marks were healing already - and made a mental list of all his knives, trying to pick the best one for the next spike…

_“Rick!”_

 

-&-

 

Daryl would have cringed at the volume of his own voice, had it not been for the picture in front of him. He hadn’t intended on calling Rick, mindful of the possible threats waiting for the dinner bell, but he couldn’t stop himself when he took Rick in.

Rick was standing next to the pile of branches, one hand holding a knife, the other rubbing at his belly through the flimsy material of his white t-shirt, and Daryl’s blood ran cold seeing this. His imagination produced a nasty picture of Rick pushing that same blade through the thin cotton and right into his own abdomen, and Daryl felt sick. He tried to ignore all of that, practically running to Rick, and grabbing the hand that was holding the knife.   
“THE FUCK ARE YA DOIN’?” Daryl roared, making Rick flinch. The knife fell and bounced off of the wood with a clatter and Daryl felt strangely relieved to hear that sound. He glared right at Rick who just stood there, rooted to the spot, tugging weakly at his arm to free it from Daryl’s hold.

Daryl just held on tighter.   
“Ya wanna die, Rick? _That_ what ya want!?” Daryl nearly shouted. Rick’s brows rose up in surprise.   
“What?” He asked, voice incredulous. And then something clicked, and Rick’s expression changed. He finally tugged his hand free and stepped back, scowling at Daryl.   
_“What?”_ Daryl parroted. “Ya wanna fuck yerself up with tha’ knife an’ ya don’t see anythin’ wrong with that?” He snarled, taking a step closer. “Ya think ya can just do it an’ to hell with the risk? Cut yerself open an’ not care if ya live or die? The hell is wrong with ya, Rick? Those people there? They need ya! Yer family needs ya! I...” He paused to take a few deep breaths and Rick used the moment to say something at last.

“I wasn’t gonna,” Rick stated calmly. Daryl snapped his mouth shut and just blinked at him. “I wasn’t gonna do that,” Rick went on. “I was just checking the knife, it’s too dull to whittle,” he explained, shrugging.   
“An’ checkin’ yer belly at the same damn time?” Daryl growled and Rick shook his head.   
“It’s just itching, ‘s all.”

They both fell quiet after that, Daryl trying to piece it all together and Rick waiting for him to do so. When Rick finally spoke, his voice was low.   
“I won’t ask you again, Daryl. We can’t find the pills, you won’t help me, and you can’t stand me trying to find another way…” Rick glanced at the knife on the ground. Daryl flinched. “I know what it does to you, and I’m sorry. I thought that maybe with you it wouldn’t be so horrible… I trust you, I could do this with you. Back in the prison…” Rick trailed off and sighed, trying to stop his voice from cracking. “I thought we could have something one day, you and I. Then Joe happened and I thought I lost it all. But I didn’t. I still trust you, and I still want to try this with you.”   
“This?” Daryl asked on a whisper. All the anger had seemingly left him already, and he was just standing there, arms hanging at his sides.

Rick shrugged. “A _relationship_. You and me. I still want that. I don’t know if I’ll be able to… not with the… _baby_. But I won’t ask again. I know it hurts you, and I’m sorry I did,” Rick finished, glancing at Daryl. The hunter stood there, staring at Rick, mouth opening and closing as if he tried to say something, but no words were coming out.

Rick shook his head and walked inside the church.

That night, Rick took his blanket and went to sleep in the sacristy. He was tired and he didn’t protest when the others shooed him away to call it an early night. Daryl felt strangely cold when the heavy doors closed, separating him from Rick. He knew he had overdone it earlier, blowing like that, but he couldn’t have stopped himself if he had tried. The prospect of losing Rick was just too much to bear.

And now he was here, lying on his blanket and staring at the ceiling, listening to quiet whimpers that sometimes filtered through from where Rick was trying to sleep. This night was worse than usual, judging by the occasional shout that made Daryl jerk his head up and stare in Rick’s direction. But, Rick never walked out, never _called for him,_ so Daryl stayed where he was.


	9. Te voglio bene assaje

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grab your tissues! Chapter 9 is here, and it is a huge step for our babes! 
> 
> Also, thank you for all the support! <3 I love each and every of your comments, especially those about breaking your hearts ;)

Rick screamed himself awake again, and Daryl jolted, sitting upright - he had heard the noise even through the heavy door.

For a long moment nothing followed, so Daryl lay back down slowly, listening for further noises. His hands clenched into fists in the soft blanket he was covered with when he heard a small sniffling sound. Then another. He knew Rick had had another nightmare. And he knew what would put an end to them once and for all.

Cursing silently, Daryl threw the blanket away. He tried not to think too much as he rummaged through his backpack and fished out a bottle of lube he had stashed there earlier on one of the runs. He tried not to think when he walked to the door. _He tried not to think as he twisted the handle and stepped inside._

Rick was lying on the bed, a blanket wrapped tightly around his body. He was curled on his side, eyes glistening with tears, hands twisting under the fabric and away from Daryl’s sight. Seeing Rick like this, seeing the only omega he had ever cared about crying and half-mad with fear in the middle of the night, made the alpha inside Daryl howl and claw at his chest painfully.

He walked to the bed and sat down on it, placing the bottle he had brought with him on the floor within easy reach. He turned to Rick, stomping down the urge to brush away the tears that stained his cheeks.   
“I’ll do it,” Daryl gruffed out and Rick’s eyebrows rose. He took a breath, exhaled and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were a bit clearer.   
“Why?” Rick’s voice was a whisper and Daryl almost winced hearing it. It was so small, almost broken, but there was no heat behind this one word. Just genuine confusion.   
“I can’t let ya suffer like this.” Daryl nodded in the general direction of Rick’s body.

Rick closed his eyes for a second again, nodding.   
“Okay,” he whispered, glancing at Daryl. The hunter lowered himself so he was stretched out alongside Rick, moves deliberately slow so as not to spook him.

“Ya sure?” Daryl asked one last time. He needed to hear it again, he needed to know that what he was about to do was wanted. Rick looked up at him, eyes bright in the pale light of the moon falling through the windows. Wide and blue, they were so fucking _blue_ , even in the half-darkness surrounding them.   
“Yes,” Rick stated, voice clear even when his lip trembled a little. Daryl nodded, pushing him down, grasping the blanket Rick was wrapped in. He tugged it away, moves steady and determined. Daryl didn’t want to drag it out.

Had the circumstances been different, he would have laid Rick out on the bed and made love to him slowly, drawing out every sound Rick was capable of making, before he sunk into him and rocked them both into oblivion.

As it was, Rick was already trembling, his instinctual response being to shift away when Daryl moved closer. He knew Rick was determined to see it through, he knew Rick needed this, but the way Rick’s instincts made him react still made Daryl want to throw up. Every time Rick’s eyes shied away from him, every time his hands twitched to push him away before Rick wrangled his body back under the steel grip of his control - Daryl felt it all like a punch to his gut.

“Shh… ‘s only me,” he soothed gently, drawing the blanket away completely, eyes focused on Rick’s. Daryl dragged his gaze away only when Rick nodded at him. He looked down, seeing Rick dressed in his white t-shirt and dark jeans. He placed his hands carefully on Rick’s abdomen, thumbs slipping beneath the hem of the t-shirt, and he dragged them up, exposing a bit of Rick’s stomach.

His friend - his _lover_ \- stilled under him as more of his skin was revealed, and Daryl frowned, looking up. Rick averted his gaze, looking to the side, eyes sad.   
“Hey, ‘s only me,” Daryl whispered, but Rick just shook his head minutely and stared at the wall stubbornly. Daryl glanced down and when his eyes focused on the tiny sliver of skin visible in the gap between his clothes, Daryl’s breath caught in his throat.

Rick knew what he saw - red, raised lines, stark against his pale skin.

Rick couldn’t help but look to the side, not ready to face Daryl. Not after he had clawed at his own stomach in his sleep again, his instincts getting the better of him when his nightmares had struck. Daryl’s hands froze at his sides and Rick didn’t know whether to be grateful or disappointed. He wanted this, even if his body rebelled in every way possible, he wanted _this_ with Daryl. He had wanted this for a long time now, but he had never acted upon it. And then Joe had stepped in and taken what hadn’t been his to take.

 _“Rick.”_ Daryl’s voice reached him loud and clear, even if it was barely a whisper. “It’s okay, I’ve seen them before.” Daryl’s voice went on, a soothing quality to its low murmur. Rick shook his head again and the hands left his sides. Before he had time to panic, Daryl was moving, crawling higher over him, bringing them level. His hands wrapped around Rick’s jaw, turning his head gently to look at Daryl. Rick couldn’t handle it. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face in Daryl’s direction.

There was a thumb on his cheek, then another on the other side. Soft lips touched his and Rick finally opened his eyes to look, really _look_ at Daryl. The hunter was poised over him, cradling Rick’s jaw in careful fingers, eyes boring into Rick’s. As he took Daryl in, his position, the protective hunch of his shoulders, the way he hovered over Rick’s form not to squish him down... Rick felt wetness gathering, clouding his vision. Daryl would never hurt him, not as long as he lived.

Rick closed his eyes and leaned in, placing a small kiss on Daryl’s lips, tearing a gasp out of him. Daryl’s thumbs never stopped brushing over his cheekbones, and they continued even now, when Daryl changed the angle a bit and let his tongue travel to Rick’s mouth. He licked inside gently, slowly, not to startle Rick. He let one of his hands travel down, over Rick’s chest, lower, over his stomach and to the little bit of exposed skin. His fingers splayed widely over it, dipping under the t-shirt, pushing it up decidedly. This time, Rick let him, the only clue to his nervousness being his hands fisting in Daryl’s vest.

Daryl dragged the fabric all the way up and tugged it over Rick’s head, throwing it to the side. Rick looked up at him, eyes big and blue, and Daryl bit his lip. He hated that he had to do this, he absolutely hated the fact that it had to be like _this_. All he wanted to do was to wrap Rick up in blankets and keep watch over him, cuddle him to sleep and kiss his head softly until Rick felt comfortable to do a bit more. But the clock was ticking, and they had to do it now, and no matter how much Daryl hated it, he knew he was the only alpha in the world that Rick trusted enough to do this.

And so, Daryl leaned down, pushing his face into Rick’s neck, and inhaled deeply. Rick’s omega scent was there, soured with anxiety coursing through him, and Daryl couldn’t help himself when he wrapped both arms around Rick’s waist and hugged him. He stayed like this for a long moment, just breathing in Rick’s scent and holding him close, trying to convey all his emotions in this embrace.

It seemed to work, Rick relaxed in his arms, hands traveling over Daryl’s back, slipping under the vest and the shirt he was wearing, touching bare skin he found there. Daryl shivered, his body recognizing his mate’s caress even if his heart screamed at him that it was wrong to do it like this. But Rick’s hands didn’t stop, gliding over his flesh, pressing into his muscles, lighting fire at the base of Daryl’s spine.

After a small eternity, Daryl finally pulled away, leaning back and looking at Rick. His lover gazed at him with eyes so serene Daryl’s whole body jolted. He dove down, touching their lips together, starting a kiss that ended with both of them wriggling out of their clothes. Rick’s scent changed slowly, some of that wonderful sweetness Daryl remembered from the prison coming back, kicking his heart into a faster rhythm.

They were both naked now and Daryl drew the discarded blanket over them, intent on keeping Rick comfortable. He kept looking into Rick’s eyes even when his hands skimmed lower, brushing over Rick’s chest and abdomen. Once they settled back on his hips, Rick froze, lips pressed tightly together. Daryl waited, thumbs rubbing a soothing caress into the hollows just next to the hip bones. It took a moment, but Rick finally nodded, looking down. Daryl moved his palms lower, covering Rick’s thighs and further down, as far as he could reach, before he dragged them back up, turning them inwards. He took hold of Rick’s legs and pried them open, settling in the space between them.

The position was enough to make Daryl’s pulse go faster, the picture of Rick splayed out before him forever branded in his brain. He could use it later, add it to all the smiles and happy, crinkling eyes he already had stashed deep inside his mind. But for now he had a task, and he needed to get on with it.

Throwing a glance at Rick’s eyes, Daryl moved on, looking down between them. Rick was soft, his cock lying in the cradle of his hips, and Daryl’s inner alpha bristled seeing this, before he scolded himself mentally. He shifted his body lower, leaning in and placing a small kiss on the soft length, catching Rick’s gaze as he did. A sharp intake of breath followed his action and Daryl smiled, kissing his way up Rick’s body, pausing over the lines scratched deeply in his skin, laving at them with his tongue. Daryl stopped only when he was level with Rick again. He lowered himself on Rick, careful not to squish him under his weight, and pressed their hips together.

There was a tiny little moan escaping Rick, making Daryl smile again and rock his hips once more, rutting into him. Rick’s hands shot to Daryl’s waist, fingernails digging into his flesh, and Daryl repeated the action, watching like a hawk for any signs of discomfort. Rick only groaned quietly, his own body responding at last, arching a bit into Daryl, rubbing against him. This little spark of interest was enough to make Daryl’s cock jump, the alpha in him reveling in the sweet response from his omega.

Rick breathed out a sigh, feeling warmth washing over him. It wasn’t enough to make him hard, his mind still too hooked up on what had happened on the road, but it was making his skin tingle and it made him feel _right_. Daryl was half-lying on him, putting just enough weight on Rick’s hips to let him grind up against, not enough to overwhelm him, and Rick wasn’t really surprised when he started to move and shift, too. His body was seeking the comfort of Daryl’s hands as they traveled over his ribs, mapping out every curve and valley.   
“Daryl…” Rick gasped, licking his lips. Daryl looked up, fingers stilling where they were inching closer to the scratches on Rick’s abdomen.

“Yeah?” Daryl rasped out when nothing followed. Rick just shook his head, reaching for the bottle of lube standing next to the bed. He pushed it into Daryl’s hand. He would never feel as safe as in this moment, never feel as _loved_ as now. Daryl took it wordlessly and squirted some of its contents on his fingers. They disappeared between their bodies, Daryl’s eyes laser-sharp, focused on Rick’s face.

The first touch of the cool slick, right over his opening, made the reality crash down around Rick’s head. He froze, gritting his jaw to stop the wail bubbling in his throat from escaping. He squeezed his eyes shut to collect himself, but Joe was there, waiting for him in every dark corner of his mind. Nameless faces of his tormentors popped up one after another, an endless stream of laughing shitheads who held him down and pushed into him…  
“Rick!” Daryl’s voice, gruffy and raspy like it had always been, tore him out of his mind, bringing him back to the present. Rick’s eyes snapped open and he let out a breath he had been holding subconsciously.

“Stay ‘ere, with me,” Daryl murmured, his free hand going to Rick’s hair, fingers threading through the curls. He was otherwise still in the same position, frozen in place, fingertips touching Rick’s opening gently, lube warmed up already. With a startling clarity, Rick realized that Daryl hadn’t moved an inch, waiting for him to adjust, to get through what was going on in his head. He leaned in, grabbing Daryl’s head to ground himself and kissing him soundly.   
“Go on,” Rick gasped out when they broke apart.

Daryl’s fingers immediately obeyed, grazing Rick’s hole, before one of them slipped gently inside. Daryl closed his eyes, biting down on a moan. Rick was tight and so fucking _hot_ Daryl’s insides twisted and his blood rushed south. He scolded himself again, moving his finger carefully, reminding himself that Rick was probably still tender after what had happened. The way Rick tensed under him before he almost visibly made himself relax, the way his eyes had gotten that fearful look again… Daryl knew he needed to keep the alpha at bay right now. He could let it out to play later, wrapping himself protectively around Rick and purring to him soothingly.

That image made Daryl think, however, and he leaned closer to Rick’s ear.   
“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered, forcing his body to do what it had been made for - bringing comfort to his omega - and started purring softly, just low enough for Rick to hear. The quiet rumble seemed to soothe Rick and his body relaxed, letting Daryl’s probing finger in deeper. Daryl used the opportunity to slip it inside as far as he could, withdrawing slowly and repeating the motion, until Rick began to breathe more easily.

He added the second one after Rick was stretched enough for more, kissing him when he winced and swallowing the small whine that escaped him. Daryl went slow, making sure Rick was okay with every move before he made it, double-checking every action. Soon, his fingers were moving easily, so Daryl slipped them all the way in, wanting to prepare Rick for what was to come. Rick’s whole body tensed and he hissed when Daryl drew his fingers out. He repeated the movement, and Rick jolted, looking at him. His eyes were wide, but there was a sharp edge to his gaze.  
“Don’t,” Rick whispered, shaking his head minutely. “Just do it. I can’t… Not…” Rick trailed off, taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment. Daryl nodded. He understood what was supposed to follow that and, even if his heart squeezed a bit knowing it, he would do what Rick wanted. The _not like this_ and _not yet_ that had gotten stuck somewhere in Rick’s throat went through Daryl’s mind with a speed that almost left him breathless.

Rick looked at him pleadingly, asking to understand, and Daryl nodded quickly, leaning forward and taking Rick’s mouth in a sweet kiss.   
“‘s okay,” he panted out once they broke for air, feeling warmth blooming in his chest when Rick’s eyes softened. Daryl went on, building up to three fingers, carefully avoiding Rick’s prostate.

Rick was glad for this. His body wasn’t really on board with what was happening, and no amount of feeling safe would change that. The first stroke of Daryl’s fingers had brought his mind back to when Joe and his group had attacked him, and that had successfully put an end to any stirrings inside him. The second pass was just uncomfortable, making him twitch with how sensitive and tender he still felt. Thankfully Daryl had understood this without many words. He did what he had to do and didn’t try to get Rick’s body to cooperate again.

When Daryl pulled his fingers out completely, Rick almost wanted to stop him. He didn’t really crave them inside, but thinking about the inevitable action that would follow, made his lungs too tight to breathe properly. He choked off a whimper and gazed down to where their bodies were covered in shadows. He couldn’t see anything, only Daryl’s hand reaching for the bottle again before it disappeared between them. Daryl shifted his weight to his knees, his other hand traveling over Rick’s skin, up over his chest, until it settled under his chin, tilting it up gently.

When Rick looked up, there was something so desperate in Daryl’s eyes that it squeezed the air out of his lungs. He brought his hands to Daryl’s sides, needing to anchor himself, needing to feel _Daryl_. It helped for a bit, at least until Daryl settled over him again, hovering over Rick’s body and getting into position.

_Knowing what was about to happen didn’t help._

The first touch of Daryl’s cock to his opening made Rick feel paralyzed. He could hardly breathe, his senses kicking into overdrive. He was hyper aware of every square inch where their bodies were pressed together, the points of contact suddenly burning him like a wildfire.   
“Rick,” Daryl ground out through gritted teeth and Rick opened his eyes, not really able to recall when he had closed them. Daryl was there, his gaze focused solely on Rick. He was still, frozen in place, giving Rick a chance to get used to the situation, and Rick could see just how much it cost him. His muscles were pulled tight, his whole body trembling with the effort of keeping himself in check. Daryl’s length was still at his entrance, not pressing in, not drawing away and suddenly, Rick wanted it _done_. He wanted this to end so he could just curl up on the bed and go to sleep.

Rick nodded, looking right into Daryl’s eyes.   
“Do it,” he whispered and took a long breath.

Daryl didn’t wait. He pushed forward, slowly but steadily, not giving Rick enough time to clench up. Rick’s arms fell from Daryl’s body and fisted in the sheets and the hunter immediately missed them. But Rick wanted it over with, so Daryl went on, watching Rick for any signs of pain - Daryl had given up on trying to fight off discomfort a long time ago. Only when he was fully inside did Daryl pause to take stock of his own senses. His arms and back hurt, the strain in his muscles getting to him with sharp jolts of pain that told him he wouldn’t be able to keep his position for much longer. But there was something else, too, something that made the alpha inside him purr and growl at the same time. Rick was soft and hot where he was wrapped around his cock, muscles instinctively fighting the intrusion and squeezing at his length. He was tight - tight enough that there was no way knotting wouldn’t hurt him. Daryl groaned, closing his eyes and letting his head drop, touching his forehead to Rick’s. He heaved in a few breaths and then opened them, only to find Rick staring at him, eyes big and glassy.

“Rick,” Daryl croaked, swallowing hard to get his throat to work properly. He didn’t even know what he wanted to say, really. He wanted to take Rick’s mind off of what was happening, to make him feel more at ease and give his body some time to adjust to the intrusion. He knew that Rick was still tender, his flesh barely healed and oh so fragile. No matter how much Daryl’s inner alpha rebelled at Daryl taking it slow, he resisted, waiting until Rick’s body stopped fighting him. The progress was slow, but finally Rick’s muscles relaxed a bit, fingers unclenching and hands moving. They traveled to Daryl’s face, cradling it gently, touching him with such tenderness Daryl’s insides twisted.

 _“I love you...”_ Rick whispered so low that Daryl almost missed it. It took his brain a second to comprehend, and then his emotions went haywire, eyes overflowing with tears that fell on his cheeks, only to be brushed away by Rick’s thumbs.   
_“Rick!”_ He choked out, voice cracking and Rick just shushed him.   
“I love you. It’s okay. I’m fine…” Rick’s words were like a soft caress, the warmth of it filling Daryl’s heart and making it beat faster.   
“Don’ wanna hurt ya…” Daryl trailed off but Rick shook his head gently.   
“You aren’t. You _won’t._ ” Rick leaned up and kissed him. “Do it… just…”   
“Rick.”   
“ _No._ Do it. I trust you.”

The words lodged in Daryl’s brain and lit up his spine. His body reacted on its own and he rocked his hips forward, provoking a quiet moan from Rick. Daryl was still buried to the hilt, so there was really no way for him to move further in, but the grinding motion shifted his length inside Rick, and it was enough to make Rick clench his fingers on Daryl’s shoulders. He nodded and Daryl started to move - slowly at first, drawing out just a bit and sliding back in, setting an even rhythm that let Rick anticipate every thrust.

Daryl’s gentleness put Rick’s mind at ease and he let his thoughts drift, which apparently was a bad thing to do. When he closed his eyes just for a moment, images of what had happened came back to him and crashed into his brain like a freight train. _Joe’s laughter. Their hands on his skin, tugging his trousers down, pushing him to his knees, holding his shoulders almost pressed to the cold tarmac… The pain. The humiliation. The overwhelming fear and disgust that each and every one of their touches provoked. The nausea he fought all throughout while tears clouded his vision. His own voice a cracking, ugly thing when he howled out his pain -_   
“Rick!” Daryl’s whisper sounded almost like a shout in the silence around them. It jolted Rick back to the present, Daryl’s still teary eyes looking down at him with such tenderness and love, Rick found himself trembling. “Stay ‘ere, keep lookin’ at me, yeah?”   
“Yeah.” Rick gasped, curling up a little to let Daryl move more easily, easing the slick slide. It didn’t hurt, _Daryl’s touch never hurt_ , and Rick tried to concentrate on the painless closeness.

He brought his hands to Daryl’s sides, rubbing the pads of his fingers between Daryl’s ribs, following the curve up until his arms encircled the hunter’s back. Rick could feel the muscles shifting just under the skin, getting tighter as the rhythm Daryl had set increased in speed. Daryl’s strokes were even, getting faster and longer, but they were easy to predict, and Rick realized it was nothing like the sex he used to have. Even before the apocalypse, when his marriage had still been intact, he had tried to bring as much passion to their bedroom as he had been able to. The way Daryl was holding himself mostly still above him, the way his movements were restrained and his hands fisted in the bedding next to Rick’s head told him how much Daryl was holding back. Rick knew why. But he also knew that if Daryl didn’t let go even for a bit, the bonding would not happen.

So Rick leaned forward and pushed his face into Daryl’s neck, breathing in his scent, the freshness of it mixing with the heavy tang of arousal. Wanting to appeal to Daryl’s inner alpha, Rick started to mouth at his neck, dragging his lips over the tender skin, before he found a place that made Daryl’s breath hitch. He licked the spot, sucking on it and placing a few small nips there, letting his hands travel down Daryl’s back at the same time. Daryl’s hips snapped forward and he moaned aloud, freezing as soon as he realized what he had done. Rick just kept sucking the spot, laving it with his tongue, as his fingers splayed over the small of Daryl’s back. He pulled, trying to urge Daryl on, to tell him it was alright without words. It seemed to work, for Daryl picked up his pace again, moaning above him quietly. It was as if he tried desperately not to let himself enjoy it, and while Rick appreciated the restraint, he knew what needed to happen and he needed it to happen soon. Daryl’s cock sliding in and out of him, while not threatening on its own, brought back all memories with startling detail, and Rick didn’t know how long he could keep them at bay.

Thankfully, Daryl’s inner alpha seemed to run the show now, even if Daryl still stopped his body from fucking into Rick in any way other than controlled. The pace changed, however - it got more erratic, more jerky, and Rick knew it wouldn’t be long now.

Daryl’s alpha instincts finally kicked in and he let them guide him. He could smell Rick’s scent with every inhale, he could feel Rick’s lips and hands on his body. It made him shiver, his nerve endings lighting up with every caress and heat pooling low in his spine. Daryl could feel himself harden further, each of Rick’s touches bringing him closer to the point of no return. And then, Rick brought his lips to Daryl’s ear and breathed a sweet little ‘Daryl’ into it, and Daryl was _right there._ His name leaving Rick’s mouth was like a caress. It sounded as if everything was alright, as if the reasons they were doing what they were doing were not important, as if Rick _wanted_ Daryl inside him as his _mate._ It fried Daryl’s brain faster than anything else could, and he gave a whine, letting his head drop to Rick’s shoulder, nosing at the skin and looking for the right place to bite. The way Rick arched his neck and let him find the right spot was the last straw.

Daryl tumbled over the edge with a growl, biting down on Rick’s shoulder, listening to the startled whimper that caused. Rick jolted under him, hands clawing at Daryl’s back, fingernails digging in hard enough to draw blood. Daryl kept on biting, feeling his knot expand, tying them together as he came inside Rick. Rick keened when he just kept on coming, the sound seemingly stuck inside his chest, his body instinctively trying to move away from the sensation. Daryl held him close, strong arms wrapping around Rick’s shoulders and keeping him from tearing away and hurting himself.

It took Rick a long while, but finally his body relaxed - just the tiniest bit, but it was enough to let Daryl know he had control over it again. He leaned back tentatively, loosening his hold slightly, and looked at his mate. Rick’s eyes were almost closed, just a sliver of blue gazing at Daryl from beneath wet eyelashes. His jaw was tight, muscles jumping when he ground his teeth further, and Daryl’s hand moved before he even had time to think about it. He ran his fingers carefully over Rick’s cheek, watching him take a big breath and exhale it slowly.   
“Ya okay?” Daryl asked, doing his best to ignore the way Rick’s muscles clenched up around his knot and made his body want to rock forward. Rick shook his head minutely.   
“Hurts,” he whispered, closing his eyes. Daryl wasn’t exactly surprised, it was something to be expected, after all. But it still punched him right into his soft spot when he heard that he was the cause of his mate’s pain. He thought quickly.

“Turn on yer side?” Daryl proposed, carefully shifting along with Rick, twisting his body and changing both of their positions until they were lying on their sides with Daryl spooned behind Rick. His knot was still keeping them together which made turning awkward, but Daryl managed to reposition them without causing Rick any more pain. They settled down and Daryl’s arms automatically wrapped around Rick’s middle, holding him close, before his brain had the time to come up with a reason as to why he shouldn’t. A shiver racked Rick’s whole frame when Daryl rubbed his fingertips over the soft skin of his abdomen, and Daryl realized Rick hadn’t come. The alpha in him rebelled at the thought and he skimmed his hand lower, intent on giving Rick at least that bit of comfort. But Rick grabbed his hand before Daryl even had a chance to brush over his hip bone. He brought it back up, then tugged it higher, placing a kiss on Daryl’s knuckles.

“Don’t…” Rick said, voice hushed but still clear.  
“I could…”   
“I couldn’t,” Rick countered, heaving in a sigh and letting Daryl’s hand drop back to his stomach. It made Daryl think, going back on all the reasons why touching Rick, _his Rick_ , was a bad idea, and he cursed silently. He suddenly felt bad for wrapping himself around Rick like he had, for not giving him enough space. It sounded ridiculous even in his own head, they were still tied together and the knot wasn’t going anywhere in the next hour or so. So, Daryl removed his hands and leaned back a bit, trying to at least put some physical distance between them where he could.

Rick startled when he realized that Daryl was drawing away from him, the warmth of Daryl’s chest no longer pressed to his back. He reached behind with one hand, groping blindly around until he found Daryl’s arm and tugged him back. Daryl went without a word, spooning up behind him.   
“Stay?” Rick asked and Daryl frowned.   
“No choice,” he answered, not ready to let himself hope for anything yet. But Rick shook his head again.   
“No… I mean… _later._ For the night.” Rick’s voice got smaller again and Daryl hated it. He leaned in and kissed Rick’s shoulder gently, just under the mating bite he had left there. Rick shuddered, but other than that, he stayed as he was, still holding Daryl’s hand over his chest. Through the haze of emotions suddenly assaulting Daryl, he realized that he could feel Rick’s heart beating just under his palm, the strong rhythm soothing his own nerves.

They were still wide awake when the knot started to go down, so Daryl gently pulled out as soon as he could. He tried to find the right words to suggest cleaning themselves up - no matter how much his inner alpha rebelled at the thought of removing their combined scents, Rick’s comfort was still the priority - but before he knew what to say, Rick’s breathing was already evening out, his scent getting just that bit sweeter. Daryl decided to let it go, allowing his body to relax into the sheets and closing his eyes. He dozed off soon after, his sleep light in case Rick needed him.

 

-&-

 

Rick woke up when it was still slightly dark outside. He was too warm, with sheets clinging to his sweat-soaked body and hair plastered to his head. He opened his eyes and looked blearily around, struggling to sit upright, trying to forget the dream he had just had. It was then that something registered in his brain.

_There were arms around him._

Panicked, Rick jumped out of bed and landed on the floor, crawling backwards until his back hit the wall nearby.

Daryl sat up, disoriented, eyes automatically searching out Rick. He winced when he spotted the omega, curled up against the wall. Rick’s eyes were wide and his breathing was far too fast, and Daryl cursed himself mentally for not moving away and disentangling himself when he had had the chance during the night.   
“Rick,” he prompted, voice gruff with sleep. Rick blinked at him furiously, eyes bright in the semi-darkness of the early morning, before he wrapped his arms around his drawn-up legs and ducked his head, resting his forehead on his knees. He stayed like this for several minutes, trying to calm down enough to move.

Rick heard shuffling, the bed springs moaning as Daryl’s weight shifted, and then a few tentative steps on the floor.   
“Daryl,” Rick whispered, reaching out with one hand, knowing he needed to do something not to let Daryl fall apart along with him. The hunter would be blaming himself, Rick knew that, he would be blaming himself for not being careful enough, not being slow or considerate enough with Rick. The alpha in Daryl was so protective over Rick, the omega could _smell it_ in Daryl’s scent.

Another step, and Daryl was taking his hand, sitting down on the floor next to him.  
“Sorry,” the hunter said but Rick shook his head and uncurled himself a little, looking up at Daryl.   
“No it’s not you, it’s… me.” Rick swallowed at how fucking cliché that was. He winced, eyes drifting to the side. “I panicked. Sorry,” he muttered. There was movement to his left as Daryl tentatively reached out with his free hand, giving him plenty of time to back away if he needed to. Rick closed his eyes and pushed his face into Daryl’s palm, nuzzling in it.   
“‘s okay,” Daryl reassured, rubbing his thumb soothingly over Rick’s cheek. “How are ya feelin’?”   
“Fine.” Rick swallowed heavily again. He was sore from the previous night and sitting on the hard floor wasn’t really helping things. But otherwise he was feeling good. What they had done… it didn’t weigh on Rick half as much as he feared it might.

“Go back to bed, huh?” Daryl prompted and Rick nodded. He was still tired and sleepy, now that the rush of adrenaline was wearing off. He let Daryl help him off the floor and into bed, humming when Daryl tucked the blanket over him tightly. Then he turned around and grabbed his clothes, tugging them on quickly.  
“You’re not coming?” Rick asked, half asleep already.   
“Nah. Gonna go and see who’s on watch. Maybe change ‘em,” the hunter explained and walked out, leaving Rick to snuggle into the pillows.

And if Rick ended up with Daryl’s pillow pressed tightly to his chest, who was there to judge?


	10. The road is dark

 Daryl found Michonne on watch, sitting on the steps leading to the church. She twisted around when he walked out, smiling when she saw him. Daryl nodded at her and went down, sitting on the steps next to her.  
“Ya mind?” He asked, taking out a pack of smokes. She gave him the look which implied that he was being stupid, and he couldn’t help a little huff of laughter that escaped him. He lit up the cigarette and tried to relax.

“How is he?” Michonne asked and Daryl shrugged.  
“Don’t know,” he answered, exhaling and watching as the smoke dispersed.  
“You spent a night with him. Don’t bullshit me.” Michonne frowned, looking ahead.  
“He’s tryin’ not t’ fall apart,” he gruffed out, taking another drag. Michonne nodded and fell silent for a longer moment. Daryl hoped it was the end of the conversation, but she spoke again after a while.  
“I heard you last night,” she stated so casually that Daryl choked on his lungful of smoke.

“What?” He wheezed, trying not to cough like a teenager on his first fag.  
“I heard the two of you. I know what you did.” She shrugged. “And I know _why_ you did it…”  
“Ya don’ know shit!” Daryl spat, his inner alpha positively boiling at what he heard. But Michonne regarded him with a curious look, before she sighed heavily.  
“I’m not your enemy, Daryl. I said I know why you did it. I’m not judging.” Her voice was level and her expression calm. “In fact, I approve,” she stated with the same unnerving composure.  
_“What?”_ Daryl couldn’t really add all that up in his head.  
“He’s been falling apart every since Joe happened… He’s better when he’s with you. And the pregnancy…” Michonne looked at him briefly, before her gaze focused on the forest in front of her again.

“He’s been getting worse since Terminus. I thought it was those fuckers, but no. It was something else. And then you told me... _"_  she frowned. “It all made sense then.”  
“Yer too damn observant, ya know that?”  
“Yeah. And you’re too damn good, Dixon. One day it will cost you.” She looked at him saying that, and Daryl was ready to throw some scathing remark, but he suddenly realized it was true.  
“Already has,” he said, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. He could feel Michonne’s calculating gaze on him, reading him like a fucking book, before she opened her mouth again. _Damn woman._  
“He loves you. And you love him.” There was a strange warmth in her voice, and Daryl scowled at her. “Don’t look at me like that! Everyone can see it.” She smiled now, bright and brilliant, a thousand times more beautiful than the sun that was slowly peeking out from behind the trees.  
“What is it to you?”  
“I want him happy. And I want you happy.”  
“Pfff… after what happened?” Daryl scoffed again, rolling his eyes. “Ya know we don’t get a happy endin’ here, right?”  
“And yet he didn’t run when you bit him.” Her grin faded to a soft smile, a sparkle of _something_ lighting up her eyes. “He loves you, Daryl. Don’t forget about it, whatever happens.” She inclined her head, and Daryl finally looked away, not able to stand the gentle gaze.  
“Shut up,” he gruffed, but could feel a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, too.

They sat in relative silence for a long time, watching the sun rise and bask everything in harsh light. Soon enough, their family started to wake inside, their low voices carrying through the door and alerting Daryl. When Glenn came out soon after, intent on changing Michonne on watch, Daryl shooed him away. He could take the watch, he wasn’t sleepy anyway. What else would he do? Go back to Rick and torture himself over _not cuddling the living shit out of him?_ He’d rather stay here and watch the forest.

As it turned out, he didn’t sit there for long. About two hours into Daryl’s watch, Rick appeared outside the church, arms wrapped tightly around his torso to stave off the morning chill.  
“Maggie’s made breakfast. You coming?” Rick asked, gaze slipping from Daryl to the woods behind him.  
“Need someone on watch,” Daryl pointed out and Rick nodded.  
“Yeah, Carl said he’ll change you in a bit.”  
“Alright.” Daryl stood up and shouldered his bow. He’d been sitting for the last few hours, it was good to finally move a bit. He went with the feeling and raised his hands up, stretching his whole body and giving a yawn. His shirt rode up a bit and exposed his stomach, and with a shiver caused by the cold air around him, Daryl tugged it back down. He looked sheepishly at Rick, who was standing there, rooted to the spot and staring at him.  
“What?” Daryl gruffed out but Rick just shook his head and wandered inside, leaving the door open for Daryl to follow.

 

-&-

 

They were all busy talking about Bob and making plans for the nearest future - going to the DC versus staying in the church - when Rick felt something strange happening to him. His stomach was all weird but he couldn’t pinpoint what exactly was wrong. He shifted where he was sitting on the pew, rubbing a hand over his abdomen absentmindedly, listening to Glenn list all the places they could go to and following his finger on the map splayed on the floor. Daryl was sitting opposite Rick, his eyes focused on the roads and rivers pictured on the map. He frowned when he saw Rick’s hand.  
“Ya okay?”  
“Huh? Oh, yeah… Think that deer must have been too dead for me.” Rick tried to laugh it off, but Daryl didn’t seem to buy it. However, he respected Rick’s choice to wave the topic off, and his eyes returned to Glenn once again. Rick frowned down at the map, hand easing off when the strange feeling passed.

It wasn’t until almost three hours later that Rick actually thought about it again. This time it wasn’t just a strange feeling. This time it was a sharp stab of pain that stopped him in his tracks, making him grip the nearest pew with force.  
“Rick!” Daryl was next to him in an instant, the crossbow he was cleaning forgotten on the floor. Rick couldn’t stop the whimper of pain that escaped him, a cramp in his belly making him double over where he stood. “What is it?” Daryl asked, frantic.  
_“You know what,”_ Rick wheezed out, gritting his teeth when another jolt of pain made its way through his abdomen. _Fuck,_ that actually bloody _hurt_. He breathed through the wave of pain and opened his eyes, looking straight into Daryl’s worried ones.

“Can ya walk?” Daryl asked and Rick nodded slowly, trying to straighten up, ending up doubling over again. Daryl wanted to get him out of eyesight, somewhere where they could have enough privacy to deal with this. He didn’t need everyone staring at Rick with pity in their eyes, not when half of them didn’t have the slightest idea as to what was happening. The more observant ones might have clued in on the reason behind Rick’s state, but most of them was still blissfully oblivious to that. And Daryl wanted them to stay that way. He led Rick to the room they spent the night in, walking next to him, his strong arms keeping Rick upright. They passed Michonne who had been dozing just outside the room. She woke up when she heard the footsteps and looked up at them.  
“What’s wrong?” She asked in a low voice, but Daryl only shook his head and kept on walking.

Once inside, Daryl closed the door behind them and helped Rick lie down on the bed. Rick was grateful - the last cramp had left him dizzy and shivering. He started to open his trousers and Daryl just stood there, watching him with wide eyes. It took him a moment to catch up with the program, but once he did, he batted Rick’s trembling hands away and tugged the jeans down, throwing them on the floor next to the bed once they were off. Rick curled up again, both hands coming to his stomach and a small whine escaping him. He looked so vulnerable lying in the empty bed, curled into a ball, his blue boxers and dark t-shirt standing out against the white sheets underneath, that Daryl cringed. The alpha inside him told him to move, get on the bed and comfort his omega.

And that’s exactly what Daryl did. He hurriedly took his own trousers off and climbed on the bed, tugging the covers from underneath Rick and pushing them back. He seated himself with his back to the wall, legs bracketing Rick, before he tugged his mate into a more sitting position, shifting them until Rick could curl up against his chest. He was shivering and trembling, and Daryl wrapped the covers around the both of them, surrounding them in a warm cocoon. He looked down to gauge Rick’s reaction at being positively smothered in his arms, but Rick didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he tried to get even closer to Daryl, pressing his face into Daryl’s chest and rubbing his cheek on the shirt he was wearing. Rick gave a small whimper when another wave of pain went through him and Daryl shushed him gently.

“‘s okay, don’t fight it,” he murmured, rubbing one hand tentatively up and down Rick’s t-shirt clad back, keeping it resolutely from the waist up. Rick groaned and tucked his knees under Daryl’s thigh, pressing as close as he could, and Daryl realized they were past the point of asking permission to touch. He wrapped himself around Rick, giving into the urge to hum quietly, hoping the alpha side of him knew what it was doing, letting his instincts run his body as he tried to soothe his mate.

It was almost half an hour before the pain lessened a bit, leaving Rick gasping for breath and trying desperately not to cry. He was a mess and he knew it, his death-grip on Daryl making his muscles ache with overuse. But he couldn’t help himself, he needed Daryl close, as close as he could get him. There was something comforting in Daryl’s scent, something that tricked Rick’s omega brain into calming down, and he could breathe easier at last. He felt himself dozing off. A strange sense of safety - something he hadn’t felt in so long - settled over him like a warm fog, clinging to his skin and making him sleepy as soon as the pain ebated.

Rick was on the brink of sleep, already feeling the pull, when something twisted inside of him. It wasn’t exactly pain, it felt more as if someone had grabbed his insides and squeezed hard enough to be felt. He shifted uncomfortably, looking for a better position, when his leg encountered something wet and warm. Rick’s eyes popped open in surprise, and he reached back with one hand, touching it gently to the material of his boxers, feeling more wetness.

Rick could feel Daryl tense beneath him when his fingers came away red, smeared with blood seeping through his underwear. The image brought back unwanted memories and Rick couldn’t really help how his breathing picked up and his hand started to shake.  
“Rick,” Daryl whispered from above him and Rick closed his eyes, opening his mouth to reply. He didn’t have a chance before another cramp seized him and he whined softly, curling up again, pressing his face into Daryl’s chest. The hunter only held him tighter, humming quietly, running his fingers through Rick’s hair occasionally.

Daryl could smell the blood even before Rick had noticed it, the sweetness of it permeating the air around them. But there was something else to it, something more than just the metallic tang and the molasses-like heaviness surrounding them. There was a faint scent of sawdust - something Daryl hadn’t expected. It was weird, and it was surprising, and Daryl could only hold Rick close and murmur soothingly into his hair as Rick’s body tried to twist itself into knots.

The worst of the cramps lasted for another hour or so, leaving Rick weak and dizzy. Daryl stayed with him through it all, taking a mental stock of all the water they had, trying to come up with a plan to clean Rick up as soon as he could. He could imagine just what was happening inside Rick’s head, _what the appearance of blood was putting his mind through again,_ and tried not to let himself cry. Rick didn’t need to see _him_ in that state now, too. So Daryl gritted his teeth and focused on Rick, counting his breaths for him, wondering how long would it take for the pain to go away completely.

By the time Rick could move without doubling over, they were both sweaty and smeared with blood, and the hunter was more than happy to help Rick to the small bathroom the sacristy had - courtesy of building a church in the middle of nowhere. They walked slowly, Daryl holding on to Rick’s arm with one hand, steadying Rick’s steps, his other hand hovering an inch from Rick’s side, ready to catch him in case he got a cramp again. They made it to the bathroom and Daryl sat Rick down on the toilet, going out to get a bucket of water and a clean rag. He was thankful that they managed to find enough clean sheets a few runs back that he didn’t have to worry about washing them if he wanted to put Rick into a clean and freshly made bed. He retrieved one sheet from the pile of them, grabbed the water and a rag, and walked back to the bathroom, grateful that nobody was looming nearby. They didn’t need the audience to see them in bloodied underwear.

He set everything within an arm's’ reach from Rick and looked at him, biting his lip.  
“Want some help?” Daryl asked tentatively, but Rick shook his head.  
“No.”  
“Ya sure?” _It was a lot to clean up._ Daryl briefly questioned the logic behind cleaning up when nothing was finished yet, but he figured Rick needed to feel _human_ again, and this was the best way to make him feel a bit more comfortable.  
“I got this,” Rick stated, looking up at Daryl with an expression so desperate, Daryl only nodded and walked out, closing the door behind him. The alpha in Daryl wanted to get back and keep watch over Rick, help him in any way he could, _protect the omega_ , but Daryl resisted.

He went straight to the bedroom and stripped the bed of the covers. He took another of the clean sheets and put it on, then he grabbed a towel and spread it over the place where the worst of the mess was. He didn’t give two fucks about the mattress underneath, but the towel would make for an easier clean-up next time, and Rick would feel better not having to watch the leftover blood seeping through the sheet.

Once he was done, Daryl rummaged through his own backpack and fished out two clean pairs of underwear. He changed into one and left the other on the bed, looking almost like an offering to whatever god that was still listening to them. Daryl only hoped their plan would work smoothly and without any unnecessary complications.

When Rick emerged from the bathroom sometime later, he was wrapped in the sheet Daryl had left for him. Rick walked straight to the bed and got on it gingerly, lying on his side and looking up at the hunter.  
“Found a clean pair of boxers if ya want.” Daryl made to pick them up, only to be stopped by Rick.  
“They’ll get dirty anyway.” The leader shook his head and curled up a bit. He looked fragile like this, wrapped in white linen and lying in the empty bed. Daryl shrugged and placed the clean pair of boxers on the bedside table. Then he went to clean himself a bit, before he returned to Rick.

He climbed on the bed and stretched out next to him, looking at Rick’s face, trying to read his mind. It usually worked - not that he was a mind reader - but he could usually tell what Rick was thinking about going by his expression alone. This time, Rick’s face was carefully blank and Daryl had to ask.  
“How bad?”  
“There’s… There’s a lot of blood,” Rick croaked, swallowing hard. “Clots. Lots of them, too.” He cringed and turned his face into the pillow. Daryl hummed and moved closer carefully. Rick was still skittish with unexpected contact, even when it came from Daryl, but now he surprised the hunter.

Rick reached out with one hand and grabbed Daryl’s vest, fingers digging into the material. He pulled Daryl closer, shifting a bit himself when he tried to adjust his position, and soon, Daryl had Rick’s leg pushed between his thighs and Rick’s face in his neck. He smelled of sawdust and earth, the warm combination that was so far off his usual omega scent, it made it hard for Daryl to ignore it. The alpha inside him bristled at the thought of Rick being hurt and he started purring, a low-rumble that he hoped would soothe Rick and lull him to sleep.

It took them two more trips to the bathroom - each one leaving Rick paler than the previous - before Rick fell asleep finally. He must have been exhausted after what his body was going through, and Daryl couldn’t help but throw a protective arm around his shoulders when Rick curled up closer, burying his face into Daryl’s neck. Whether it was their closeness becoming something familiar to Rick, or just the tiredness making him less alert to his surroundings, he didn’t as much as twitch when Daryl held him close, something the hunter was grateful for. The truth was, with the smell of blood heavy around them, mixing with Rick’s omega scent that was still all soured and dusty, Daryl needed this just a much as his mate did. Probably more.

 

-&-

 

It was already dark outside when Daryl startled awake. He looked around, instantly alert, taking in the room they were in, wondering when he had fallen asleep. Rick was still pressed to him, eyes open and staring into the darkness, a sliver of moonlight illuminating his features. Rick had one hand placed on Daryl’s vest, thumb running in a mindless pattern over the leather, rubbing it almost obsessively.  
“Hey,” Daryl whispered and Rick’s eyes flickered to him, before he went back to staring into thin air. His thumb kept on brushing the vest and Daryl frowned. “You okay?” He asked tentatively. He could tell that Rick was far from fine - his body was tense and his legs kept shifting. The question seemed to bring Rick back to the present, though, and he looked at his own hand as if he hadn’t been aware of what he was doing. The incessant rubbing stopped and he sighed, closing his eyes.  
“It feels weird,” Rick offered, shivering. Daryl automatically reached for the sheets and tugged them higher around Rick’s shoulders.

“It’s almost as if my body is trying to tell me that something’s wrong, making me feel like shit,” Rick whispered in explanation, his thumb starting to move again. Daryl followed the mindless pattern with his eyes, trying to keep calm and let his scent wash over Rick. He was grateful for his alpha attributes at moments like this, when he had no words to say and still wanted to help Rick. The man was silent for a longer moment, and if it hadn’t been for the soft susurrus of skin on leather, he would have thought Rick had fallen asleep again, pulled under by the exhaustion of the day.

But Rick was awake. He had his head cushioned by Daryl’s chest and he kept running his thumb over the vest to soothe himself. Rick didn’t know why, but it actually worked a little and the anxiety enveloping him eased off. He would be content to just go back to sleep there and then, if it hadn’t been for his bladder urging him to take a trip to the toilet.

Rick sighed and levered himself up gingerly. He saw Daryl frown hard in the near-darkness around them.  
“What’s wrong?” Daryl asked, reaching out with one hand as if he wanted to help, before he thought better of it and withdrew it. Rick still saw the movement and smiled, feeling something warm blooming near his heart. Surprisingly, Daryl was one of the few people he could accept help from, without feeling like a weak little omega.  
“Need to take a piss,” Rick muttered and got out of bed.

Daryl sat up and watched him shuffle to the bathroom. Rick was still wrapped in the sheet - now fisting it tightly to stop it from falling off of him - and Daryl shivered seeing a few dark spots near Rick’s ass. He hoped the bleeding would stop soon and that Rick will finally be free of any reminders of the past - god knew he’d had enough of them already. Daryl had had enough of them, too.

He got up and walked to his backpack, plunged his hand into one of the side pockets and fished out his beaten-up pack of cigarettes.  
“Mind if I grab a smoke?” He asked Rick’s retreating back.  
“Go ahead,” Rick answered in a low voice and disappeared in the bathroom. Daryl knew it would take him a while in there, probably. He knew Rick, he knew his mate would want to clean himself up. He also knew that he couldn’t just sit and wait here without his protective instincts going haywire.

On his way out of the sacristy, Daryl paused right outside the bathroom. “I’ll be outside,” he gruffed.  
“Okay,” Rick answered, and Daryl went on. He needed fresh air and he needed to calm the alpha part of his brain. _His mate was hurt and alone in there. He was hurt and bleeding._ Daryl shook his head forcefully. This bond thing was exhausting.

 

-&-

 

Carol and Michonne were on watch, sitting on the steps leading to the little porch the church had. They both turned around hearing his approach, and smiled widely when they saw him. Daryl nodded at them and lit his cigarette.

“How is he?” Michonne asked, throwing a glance at the door as if looking for Rick.  
“Seems like he’s better.” Daryl shrugged and made his way down, sitting on the lowest step, turning so that his back was propped against the railing and he could look at the two women sitting higher.  
“What’s wrong with him?” Carol asked. “Is it because of what happened?” Daryl eyed her hearing this.  
“Whadda ya know ‘bout it, huh?” Daryl growled. He didn’t even know why, he just did, the alpha inside him making him more defensive. He felt bad immediately - Carol was his friend, he could trust her. Michonne was there and she already knew _everything_ about the situation.

Thankfully, Carol didn’t react, other than to frown.  
“He was... attacked,” she continued carefully, glancing at Daryl. “We know he was. And we’ve seen how he’s been lately…” She trailed off and looked down at the gun she was holding between her knees. Daryl took a long drag of his cigarette.  
“He’s been hurt. Still is,” he muttered, looking at the forest, eyes following the narrow path that lead to the main road.  
“He’ll get better,” Carol stated, the confidence in her voice making Daryl’s skin prickle.  
“How’d ya know that?” He turned to look at her.

She was silent for a long moment, her eyes traveling over Daryl’s face, before she gave him a small, tentative smile.  
“He’s got you.”

Daryl wanted to scoff. He wanted to snap at her. He was ready to do it, too, already opening his mouth, angry words waiting to spew out… And then he remembered Carol’s past - her abusive husband, the bruises, her puffy eyes...

He snapped his mouth shut and turned back to look at the forest.

 

-&-

 

Rick joined them half an hour later, fully clothed, zipping up his brown coat as soon as he stepped out on the porch. Michonne and Carol muttered something about changing the battery in the car they had managed to bring back from the last run, and walked to it, leaving them alone. Rick took the opportunity to take the place next to Daryl. The hunter eyed him, taking in the careful way in which he moved, the stiffness in Rick’s legs as he sat gingerly on the steps.  
“Ya alright?” Daryl asked in a low voice. He didn’t really want to get the girls involved in this talk, not when they had wandered away in a clear attempt at giving them some privacy.

Rick sighed and ran one hand through his hair.  
“It’s better,” Rick answered. He bit his lip, before continuing. “Still bleeding a bit,” he mumbled, looking at Daryl. He didn’t look at Daryl’s face - his gaze stopped somewhere on Daryl’s chest. Daryl’s eyes immediately went to Rick’s jeans, and he frowned. He knew that Rick wore those trousers like an armor, but he doubted he wanted to clean them up later. Daryl would do it, _of course he would_ , but he wasn’t sure how much more of his hand washing they would stand. They were almost threadbare now.

Rick must have seen his confused expression, because he huffed out a humorless laugh.  
“I tore up the sheet…” he said, looking at his boots. “You know… for padding,” Rick added in a voice so small, Daryl’s heart squeezed. He wanted to reach out and draw Rick closer to him, comfort his omega, make him feel better in any way he could. But Rick was sitting with his elbows propped on his knees, his back hunched, and Daryl had a feeling that touch wouldn’t be too welcome right now.

“Smart,” Daryl commented instead, trying to lighten up Rick’s mood somehow. Rick shrugged and fell silent. He turned his head to Daryl, watching as the hunter took another drag of the cigarette and exhaled the smoke in a large cloud.

The roar of an engine was so startling, they both jumped up. A car drove by, taking a turn right next to their little church road and went for the highway. The brief moment was enough for Daryl to notice the white cross painted on the back.

_Beth._

Led by instincts alone, Daryl practically ran towards their own car, grabbing his crossbow and swinging it around, smashing the taillights with its butt. He could chase after them like this and remain unseen - the stop lights were the only ones that didn’t turn off.  
“Daryl?” Carol’s voice made him turn around.

Rick, Carol, and Michonne were all standing still, looking at him in surprise.  
“They’ve got Beth!” Daryl explained. He chanced a look at Rick and something inside him twisted. He couldn’t leave Rick here, not when his mate was still hurt and bleeding.

He couldn’t take him along, either. Rick was still too vulnerable for this.

Daryl stood there, rooted to the spot. Half of him wanted to tear after those fuckers and bring Beth back, if she was still alive. The other half of him rebelled at leaving Rick.

And then, Rick strode forwards, walked up to him with a determined expression on his face and, before Daryl knew what was really happening, placed his hands gently on both sides of Daryl’s face.  
“Go,” Rick told him.  
“But yer still - ”  
“Go. I’ll be fine,” Rick assured, leaning in and placing a small, chaste kiss on Daryl’s lips. It was quick, and it was over too soon, and then Rick was talking again. “Go, bring Beth, and come back to me.”

His tone was soft, and the words were quiet, but they went through Daryl like a lightning bolt. He nodded and stepped back, afraid he wouldn’t have the strength to do that if he stood there for a second longer. He threw a glance at Michonne, who nodded with a solemn expression.

 _Keep him safe._  
_  
I will._

Daryl got into the car, barely registering Carol getting in with him. They had to be quick and keep a good distance - enough to follow the car, not enough to get caught. With one last thought about Rick, Daryl floored it.


	11. Take my hand, come undercover

Watching Daryl go left Rick with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Daryl’s reaction had been instinctive and Rick understood it perfectly. Daryl felt responsible for Beth’s disappearance, and for him, going after the people who had taken her was the right thing to do. Rick supported it, no matter how his guts twisted at the thought of Daryl doing it without him, _without their whole family._ They should be there, all of them, fighting for Beth… if she was still alive, of course.

Rick cringed hard. He dreaded to think about the pain Daryl would feel if Beth wasn’t alive anymore. He knew his mate would carry the guilt, no matter how little he could have done to stop it.

“Let’s get Glenn and Maggie to change us,” Michonne prompted and Rick startled. _Right._ They needed someone for the rest of the night shift. He was still too weak to take it, and Michonne had already been out here enough. They all needed their rest.   
“Alright.” Rick nodded and started in the direction of the church.

 

-&-

 

Rick was sitting with Judith, who had started to fuss sometime in the early morning. The sun wasn’t even up yet, the sky outside tinged violet at the east. The inside of the church was still dark, and Rick marvelled at the beauty of the colors behind the church windows. It was peaceful, the forest around them coming to life with birds and other animals, the soothing sounds filtering through the door cracked open just a bit.

“There’s someone outside!” Sasha cried suddenly, and Rick twisted around to look at her. She was staring at something behind the window, on the other side of the church, the one without Glenn and Maggie keeping watch.

Judith gurgled something in his lap and Rick looked down at her. He got up, put her in her improvised pen and told Carl to watch her, before he checked his Python and walked out, following others.

Sasha was the first to get to the spot, Maggie and Glenn following with their weapons raised. Rick went after them, glancing around every few steps, trying to look for any possible threats. He came to an abrupt halt when he rounded the corner, the scene in front of him bringing back ridiculous horror movies from before the apocalypse.

Bob.

Bob was lying on the ground, one hand wrapped around Sasha’s wrist, smiling at her like a man who was losing his mind. His leg was missing - cut off, judging by the bloodied bandage wrapped around the stump. Rick cringed, looking around. There was no one in the forest around them, and yet someone had done _this._

“Let’s get him inside,” Glenn muttered, kneeling next to Bob and helping to sit him up. Between Glenn, Michonne and Sasha, they managed to carry their friend back to the church. Rick wanted to help, stepping in and reaching for Bob’s remaining leg, but Michonne sent him a look that stopped him in his tracks.   
“We got it, cover us,” she said breathily, moving slowly not to jarr Bob’s wounds. Maggie nodded and scanned the woods, gaze jumping along the treeline. Rick shrugged and turned around, keeping his eyes on the forest. His stomach throbbed with a dull kind of pain and he pressed one hand to it on instinct. Maybe Michonne was right in rejecting his help?

Rick frowned, but kept on watching the woods, moving along with the group as they all escorted Bob inside.

 

-&-

 

_Gareth._

That fucker’s name was Gareth, and Rick remembered him clearly. The sleazy one. The one with the manic glare in his eyes.

_Should have killed them all when there was a chance._

Rick shook his head, looking down at Bob lying in the bed, feverish and panting. Their friend had been bitten back on that sunken-cellar run. It was a small miracle that he was still alive. His body had been strong before, but now it was slowly giving up. Rick could see it in every shallow breath and jarring cough. Bob was dying and there was nothing they could do.

“They’ll be back,” Bob whispered, and Rick nodded. He knew that, he had expected as much.   
“Don’t worry about it,” Rick said, walking closer. He was holding Judith, the little girl writhing around in his arms. Bob patted the side of the bed, inviting him. Rick sat down. Judith calmed a little, and Rick adjusted her clothes, making sure she was warm, before he looked back at Bob. The man was smiling brightly at the two of them, eyes half-open, one hand stretching out to touch Judith’s hand when she reached it into his direction.

“I wish we could do something,” Rick muttered, sighing. Bob chuckled.   
“You did enough. You took me in, Rick. I met Sasha… it’s enough,” he stated, his smile faltering for a moment. “When Daryl found me back on that road… I didn’t know what life was. Now I do,” he continued, stretching his arm even further and tickling Judith on her cheek. She squealed happily and buried her face in Rick’s chest. Bob smiled even wider.

“I’ll be gone, soon, but it was a good life,” he said simply, closing his eyes. Rick frowned. _No, it wasn’t. It shouldn’t have been like this. They’d lost so many people already, why did they have to lose Bob, too?_

“You’ve got to protect them,” Bob mumbled suddenly, voice low and brethy. He was struggling to take another breath, and Rick knew it was time to get Sasha back to him. His stomach twisted painfully, and Rick wasn’t even sure if it was his own condition or his emotions speaking.  
“I will. We’ll kill them all,” Rick stated, nodding to himself. He knew they had to, that there was no other way. He had known this from the beginning.

It was almost weird how detached he felt about this whole business. Decisions like this should probably be more disturbing… he was thinking about killing people, after all. But those same people had put all of them through enough shit to last them a lifetime.

“Before the prison… I didn’t know there was any good people left. But you… you’re a good man, Rick,” Bob whispered and Rick shook his head. He didn’t say anything else and Bob fell quiet, too. His breathing was laboured and his body was twitching. Rick stood up, cradling Judith close to him.   
“I’ll get Sasha,” he said and watched how Bob’s eyes fluttered open for a second, before they closed again. A gentle smile spread over his lips.

Rick walked out.

 

-&-

 

They buried Bob near the church. It was sunset, and Tyreese dug a grave for him with Glenn’s help. Father Gabriel said a few words, and Sasha didn’t listen to any of them. Maggie was trying not to cry and Rosita stood there with Abraham, both wearing solemn expressions. Carl sat on the grass with Judith, keeping her busy with flowers.

Rick just stood there, wishing Daryl was back already.

After they were done with their small funeral, they all went back to the church. Rick’s stomach still hurt as if someone was squeezing it, but it could be ignored if he tried hard enough. He was still bleeding slightly, which made him use the sheet again if he wanted to walk around at all, but he refused to lie down. They had a job to do and it was more important than his rebelling body. Rick gritted his teeth and pushed on, joining the others and forming a plan together. They knew the Termites were coming for them and they knew they had to fight.

“We should fight them outside,” Glenn proposed, but Rick shook his head.   
“No. Too open,” he frowned down at the map they were all looming over. Woods. Woods everywhere, a thick forest to the right, and even thicker forest to the left.   
“What do you want to do, Rick? Ring them a dinner bell?” Maggie asked incredulously. They all looked at her and she winced when she realized what she had just said. _Bob was missing his leg because those cannibals ate it._ “Sorry,” she muttered, ducking her head down.

“Rick’s right.” Abe joined the conversation and jammed his finger on the map. “They left him here,” he said, pointing to a place where Bob had been found. “They must have seen Glenn and Maggie keeping watch on the other side. They’re smart and they know these woods better than us.” He concluded, looking up at the others. Rick nodded, grateful for his input. Rick had been falling apart a lot recently, and that small acknowledgement from another alpha made him feel better as the leader. _His head was still on his shoulders, it seemed._

“Can we get them inside, somehow?” Rosita asked from her spot a few steps away from the map. Abraham glanced at her.   
“Holy dick, are you crazy?” He growled and Rosita rolled her eyes. Abe continued, “those men are freakin’ dangerous and you want them around the little ones?” He asked incredulously. Carl rolled his eyes and walked away.   
“May be the only way we can get them all,” Rick muttered, watching Carl’s retreating back. He knew his son hated to be put in the ‘little’ category. To be fair, he had outgrown ‘little’ quite a long time ago. Rick wasn’t surprised when he wandered away to sit with Judith.

“Let’s go to the DC, people, and be done with this twisted situation.” Abe looked at them with an expectant expression clear on his face. Rick shook his head forcefully.   
“No.”   
“What do you mean, _no_ , Curly?” Abraham growled, stepping closer to Rick, who straightened and stared at him with angry eyes. The alpha was bristling for a fight and Rick knew that he himself was in no shape for one. Not to mention that even at his best, he was still a lot leaner than Abe. That didn’t mean he would just cower and hide, letting the man do whatever he wanted, though.

“We’re not going to the DC until Daryl and Carol get back,” Rick stated in a low voice, trying to keep it level.   
“We’re sitting ducks here, man!” Abraham exclaimed, throwing his arms around. Rick fought hard not to flinch. He stood stock still, glaring at Abe and trying not to let his nerves take the best of him. He wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t punch the man if he pushed him.

Abe stepped away, grabbed his machine gun and looked around.   
“Time for a reality check!” He addressed everyone inside the church. “We’re leaving for the DC and we’re leaving now!” He boomed, prompting Rosita to take her backpack and walk calmly in the direction of the door. Nobody else moved, thankfully - they just stood there and stared at the ginger alpha. Rick glanced at Michonne, then at Glenn and Maggie.

“Daryl and Carol are gonna be back,” Rick reminded everyone, knowing they probably already decided to stay no matter what. It was clear from their shocked expressions when Abe had first started talking. Rick continued, “we’re not going anywhere without them.”   
“I respect that,” Abe nodded. “But there’s a clear threat to Eugene’s safety and I need to extract his ass from here right away. We need to get him to the DC, right now. You don’t wanna come? Good luck to you! We’ll go our separate ways.” And with that, Abraham turned around and started walking to the door.

“You’re leaving on foot?” Rick asked, not really knowing why he wanted to rile that man up. Abe paused and turned around, Rosita, too.   
“We cleaned and fixed a damn bus ourselves. We’ll be fine.”   
“You’re one of us!” Rick growled, thinking fast. He knew they had that bus - they had found it on one of the runs - and Rick hoped they would use it to get to the DC. _All of them_.   
“Then I suggest you come with us if you wanna keep it that way!” Abe seethed and Rick snarled at him. His patience was running thin.   
“We saved your life!”   
“AND I’M TRYING TO SAVE YOURS!” Abe roared. “SAVE EVERYONE’S!”

Rick could feel adrenaline shooting through him. He leaned forward, trying not to lose the tight reign he had over his own anger. “We’re not going anywhere without our people,” Rick reasoned. Abe just got more worked up.   
_“Your people took off!”_   
“They’re coming _back!”_ Rick stepped closer.   
“To what? _Picked-over bones!?_ ”

Rick had heard enough. He didn’t know why, but he reached over and tried to grab Abraham… maybe to shake some sense into him? They weren’t leaving without Daryl and Carol. _No way._ And this bumbling alpha dared to question their family’s loyalty?

Glenn jumped between them suddenly, effectively blocking any punches that might have flown.   
“Hey, hey, stop! Now! Do you really think that you're gonna be any safer leaving right now in the middle of the night?” He asked Abe, eyes worried and half-wild. Rick took him in. Abe was positively shaking with rage.   
_“Yeah.”_ The alpha looked at Rick, then at Glenn. His expression was manic and Rick could swear his own skin was crawling with bugs. He hated when alphas got like this. It was one of the reasons he had broken whatever they had had with Shane all those years ago. Every time Shane had gone all mighty on anyone, Rick had just wanted to punch him and put an end to his crazy macho displays.

“What about tomorrow?” Glenn didn’t give up. Rick just stood there, taking calming breaths to control his own anger. He might still punch Abe. It was a good thing Glenn was a beta. “We need each other for this. _We need each other to get to the DC_. We can get through all of it together.”

Silence fell for a moment. Abraham seemed to be thinking something over in his head and it looked like the situation might work itself out finally. Up until Tara stepped forward.   
“I have an idea,” she said, walking up to Abe. “If you stay just one more day and help, I'll go with you to the DC no matter what,” she proposed. Abraham nodded. Then Tara turned to Rick, as if seeking his approval. “Okay?” Before he had a chance to answer her, to ask her if she was sure, if she knew what she was doing, Abraham spoke again.

“Glenn and Maggie, too.” His voice was level, calm. He wasn’t asking, he was _stating a fact._   
“No.” Rick gruffed, not really believing what he was hearing. Abraham scoffed.   
“Good luck, then,” he spat and turned around. “I'm not interested in breaking up what you have here… Rosita, grab your gear.”  
“Abraham - ”  
_“Now.”_ He growled. “Eugene, let's go.”

Rick’s eyes went to the man sitting in one of the pews. He was curled up, looking almost like a victim of domestic abuse from one of Rick’s cases back when he had still been a sheriff’s deputy.   
“I don’t want to,” Eugene mumbled.   
“Now!” Abe was relentless and Eugene finally obeyed. With a quiet ‘okay’ he stood up and followed Abraham. Rick cringed hard and looked down to hide his expression. Taking a calming breath and keeping his voice as level as he could, he finally spoke.

“You’re not taking the bus.” Rick stated, staring at the floor. He didn’t want to provoke Abe anymore, he just wanted the man to leave his family alone. It wouldn’t be bad if he just left, _but they all needed that bus_.

Abraham stopped dead in his tracks and turned, so that his side was to Rick.   
“Try and stop me,” Abe said. Anger was radiating from him in waves that Rick could almost _feel_ crashing against him. He looked up slowly. Abraham was just standing there, one hand on the butt of his machine gun, the other close to the trigger. This image made the omega inside Rick want to curl up and hide somewhere. He swallowed, made his muscles move, and strode forward.

_Abraham was not going to take the bus. He was not going to take Maggie and Glenn from him._

“Wait, wait, wait!” Glenn got between them again, hands frantically pushing at their chests. “Hey, hey!” He turned to face Abraham, knowing Rick wouldn’t hurt him. “You stay and help us, and we will go with you,” Glenn proposed. His voice had a desperate edge to it that Rick hated. And then the meaning of his words hit Rick like a ton of bricks.   
_“No!”_ Rick growled, but Glenn looked sharply at him.   
“It's not your call.” Glenn said simply. The rebuttal was so casual, it felt like a physical punch. Rick cringed and took a step back. Suddenly, he didn’t have enough energy to argue anymore… It just fucking _hurt_ to be dismissed like this.

Glenn continued, “you stay, help us…” Abraham seemed to mull it over and Rick just stood there, feeling cold all of a sudden. It was almost as if he was watching the whole exchange from behind a window.   
“Half a day,” Abe stated finally. “Come high noon, we're taillights. I'm not waiting for the other damn shoe to drop.”   
From behind Rick, Maggie spoke finally. “We will leave with you.”   
“Then we go.” Abe nodded at Glenn. He relaxed his stance and turned to Rick, _nodded at him, too,_ as if he was congratulating him on a well-formed plan.

Rick had to stop himself from punching Abe in the face when he walked back, right next to him.

_Where the hell was Daryl?_

 

-&-

 

Their plan worked well. Leaving the church to wait in the woods for the Termites to come proved to be a splendid idea. As soon as Gareth and his group walked inside, Rick and his team followed them silently.

Murdering them all was easy… Rick had a thought that it shouldn’t feel as good as it did when he swung his machete at Gareth’s head, but it didn’t stop him. Not until Gareth’s head was a bloodied mess with brain falling out on the church’s floor.

Rick _had_ promised him that death, after all.

Later, Rick realized that he couldn’t remember much of the moment they had killed all the Termites. It was almost as if his brain had shut down, running only on basic instincts of survival.

_Eliminate the threat and move on._

One moment, he was standing in front of Gareth, the man cowering on the floor and blabbering on, saying something about their innocence. The next, Rick was looking at his corpse, crimson rivers seeping out from the dead body. He turned around, hearing a metallic noise.

Michonne was picking up a sword - _her own sword_ \- the blade glinting sliver in the low light of the moon falling inside through the windows. She stared at it with an unreadable expression. Rick knew she had a love-hate relationship with that sword. He knew what its reappearance made her feel. They had talked about how she didn’t miss it anymore, the grief and anger it had been the witness of.

Before Rick could go and say something, Gabriel’s voice broke the silence around them. The priest walked out of the sacristy and looked around with horror evident in his eyes.   
“It’s the Lord’s house!” He cried in disbelief. Rick opened his mouth to growl something to shut him up, but Maggie beat him to it.   
“No,” she stated, resignation clear in her voice. “It’s just four walls and a roof.”

They all went to the sacristy then. Nobody slept, but nobody was eager to talk, either. They sat in silence, waiting for the new day to come.

 

-&-

 

In the morning, they all wandered out. Maggie and Glenn were getting ready to take off with Abraham, Rosita, and Eugene. Rick still hated it, but it put him at ease that his family was safe with the brute man. The way he had fought and murdered their enemies just a few hours earlier proved that he was on their side of the apocalypse. Abraham also seemed to have cooled down after the slaughter the previous night, and Rick briefly wondered if it was some kind of an alpha trait that made them calm down after blood was spilled.

He also wondered how he had never seen Daryl in such circumstances.

“This is our route to the DC,” Abraham said, tearing Rick out of his thoughts. He looked down to where one big hand was holding a map. Rick took it gingerly. “We'll stick to it as long as we're able. If not, well, you got our destination. Once Eugene gets to the big brains left up there, things are gonna bounce back.” Abe nodded at Rick. “This group should be there for it… You should be there for it.”  
“They will be,” Maggie said, keeping her voice light.   
Michonne nodded, too. “We will.”

Rick looked around, taking in the brave smiles everyone had put on. He didn’t like them parting, but there seemed to be no other choice. Besides, Glenn and Maggie had made a promise, and they were people of their word as much as Rick was.   
“We will,” Rick agreed finally and Abraham smiled at him.   
“Let's go.”

 

-&-

 

The rest of the day was spent on digging graves and burying the bodies. Rick helped as much as he could - he had his hand in digging three graves - before his stomach forced him to take a break. He wandered back to the church and took Judith from Michonne, giving her an opportunity to rest a bit. She smiled at him and went outside, looking for herbs she could use to make some tea for everyone. They still had enough supplies to eat well for the next few days, so Rick wasn’t worried about hunting.

He was worried about the _hunter._

Daryl should have been back already, he should have made his way back to them, alive and well, with Carol and Beth in tow. Rick’s gut told him something bad had happened, but he didn’t know what it was.

He looked to the side, spotting Father Gabriel furiously scrubbing at the blood stains on the floor.

Rick shrugged and walked out, looking for a quiet spot to sit and rest. Judith gurgled happily in his arms and he smiled, hugging her closer.

 

-&-

 

By the time Daryl got back, it was already dark outside again. Rick was lying on a blanket in his previous spot next to the window. He couldn’t stand being in the room where Bob died… it was almost as if the place had some sort of weird energy making him quesy every time he stepped in there. So, once he started to feel tired enough to actually rest for a bit, he took his and Daryl’s blankets and placed them together right under the window.

The floor underneath him was hard and unfriendly, and he wriggled in place, irritated. He had used only one blanket for bedding, and had thrown the second one around his shoulders for warmth. He started to reconsider his decision, when the door opened and a dark silhouette stood in there. Rick’s heart gave a jolt and he sat up so quickly, he made himself dizzy.

_Daryl._

Rick was walking to him, before he even realized that he had moved. He basically ran to Daryl, the sight of his mate making his heart thud loudly in his chest.   
“Daryl!” Rick almost crashed into him, barely stopping himself at the last moment. Rick came to a halt in front of him, taking in Daryl’s solemn expression and stiff posture. Something was wrong. Something was _very_ wrong…

“Rick…” Daryl gruffed out finally and Rick’s eyes widened. Daryl’s voice was raspy, but it had that sad edge to it. Daryl’s scent washed over him in such close proximity, and Rick could smell the anxiety coming off of Daryl. _Wrong. Daryl smelled wrong._   
“Are you…” Rick trailed off. He couldn’t finish the sentence. The possibility of Daryl being bitten was something he refused to comprehend. Guts tightening, Rick waited for the answer.

Thankfully, Daryl must have read the question straight from Rick’s head. He shook his head forcefully.   
“Ain’t bit,” Daryl stated, louder than necessary. Rick didn’t mind. His stomach unclenched and relief washed over him like a tidal wave. He took a deep breath.   
“What is it?” Rick asked, eyeing Daryl. His mate looked troubled, his eyes two dark-blue slits, lips pressed tightly together.   
“I lost Carol…” Daryl mumbled, so quietly Rick had to strain his ears to hear it. He opened his mouth to say something, to soothe Daryl or try to ask about the details, but Daryl beat him to it.

“She ran right under a car… ‘t was them. They took ‘er. They have Beth, too,” Daryl looked down at his boots, and Rick winced. His mate was hurting and all his instincts told him to do _something._ Even his body seemed on board with this, the prospect of hugging Daryl making him want to step forward. Rick chanced it.

“Come here,” he whispered, waiting for Daryl to move. The alpha obeyed and moved closer, and soon, Rick was wrapping his arms around Daryl’s chest, one of his hands traveling up and to Daryl’s head, cradling it gently against Rick’s shoulder.   
“We’ll get them,” Rick murmured, feeling how Daryl leaned into him heavily. It should have made him uncomfortable. It should have made him want to move back.

He only tightened his hold and stood where he was, breathing a quiet sigh of relief when Daryl’s arms slipped around his waist and the hunter held him back just as hard.

The hug ended too soon. They pulled away reluctantly, knowing none of them was up for any public displays of affection, not yet. Rick looked at Daryl questioningly, the stiffness in his mate’s movements making him worried again. But Daryl just shook his head and stepped aside, turning to look at the door behind him.   
“Noah,” he called and a thin person appeared in the doorway. Rick squinted at the man. “Found him, says he can help us,” Daryl shrugged, looking at Rick.

There it was again, Daryl waiting for Rick’s okay, the _alpha_ seeking the _omega’s_ approval. Rick’s heart melted right there and then. _No, Daryl wasn’t like all the other alphas, not by a long shot._   
“Do you trust him?” Rick asked him, leaning in and catching his gaze. Daryl nodded.   
“Alright. He stays,” Rick agreed, one hand squeezing Daryl’s arm. The hunter moved away then, but it wasn’t an escape attempt. He was tired - they all were. Rick decided to call it a night. They could still catch some sleep, with Michonne and Gabriel on watch.

Rick showed Noah where he could sleep a bit, too - the kid was ready to keel over, no matter how much he protested that he was fine. Then, Rick went to check on Judith and Carl. He smiled when he saw his son half-awake, following Daryl with his eyes.   
“He’s back?” Carl asked quietly and yawned.   
“Yeah,” Rick answered in a whisper. Carl smiled and closed his eyes again. He wiggled in place a bit, before he settled back down. Rick watched him for a longer moment, until a movement near the window caught his attention.

Daryl was rooting through his backpack, which he had placed right beside their blankets. It made something warm bloom inside Rick, and he walked there, trying to be quiet not to wake the others up. Tyreese and Sasha were still sleeping somewhere next to the opposite wall, Carl and Judith a bit closer to the middle of the church. They needed their rest. 

Rick made his way to their nest of blankets and sat down. He took his cowboy boots off and waited for Daryl to be finished. Finally, Daryl pulled something out and sat down next to Rick, who glanced curiously at the object in Daryl’s hands. It was a small tube of ointment, one Rick recognized. They had used it for mosquito bites back when mosquitoes had been their biggest concern during long walks in the countryside. He looked up at Daryl questioningly.   
“For yer stomach,” Daryl mumbled, fidgeting with the tube “Could help with the itchin’.”

Something clicked in Rick’s head. He remembered how Shane had explained it to him once. _Alphas had to fuss._ It was an alpha thing, really. They needed to make sure their omega was alright. The instinctive _caring_ for their mate was something that was rooted so deeply in their brains they couldn’t help themselves. If their mate was hurt, they would stay close and be handsy, pet and rub their palms all over the sore spots to make them better. It had been the reason why Shane had liked to give Rick massages every time they had been back from the shooting range.

It was also the reason why Daryl’s hands twitched around the little tube now.

Something shifted inside Rick. Something had been shifting for a while now. He wanted Daryl as his mate - their bond wasn’t only the byproduct of their desperate try at keeping Rick sane. He loved Daryl, and he wanted him close, and even if he had to thread carefully, Rick _needed_ to do something to move forward at last. God only knew how much time they had left on this walker-infested planet.

Rick’s gaze traveled from Daryl’s hands to his face. The hunter was watching him warily, almost as if he was afraid he’d crossed some invisible line bringing the ointment. Rick thought about the last time he had seen a tube similar to this one, and had to close his eyes and take a deep breath to get rid of the memory. When he opened them again, Daryl was still staring at him, clearly fighting his protective instincts.

Rick smiled. It was small and tentative, but it was there, and it seemed to put Daryl at ease. Especially when Rick followed it up with a tiny nod, just big enough to be seen. And then, making a conscious effort to keep his mind focused on Daryl, Rick lied down on his back on their blankets. Eyes fixed on Daryl, Rick tugged his shirt up slightly, biting the inside of his cheek just to keep his head from spiraling.

_This was Daryl, and Daryl had already touched him in all the ways imaginable._

_Daryl’s touch never hurt._

Rick pulled the hem of his shirt higher up, his thoughts a mantra of ‘It’s Daryl, it’s Daryl, it’s Daryl...’

But Daryl stayed frozen, still as a rock, gaze jumping from Rick’s exposed abdomen to his eyes.   
“Rick?” He asked finally, voice barely there. Rick knew he had to be the brave one in this. Strangely enough, after killing Termites and getting Daryl back, he had found the courage needed. At least for this evening.   
“It’s okay,” Rick nodded and took his hand away from his shirt. He placed it on Daryl’s knee, his thumb rubbing the spot it fell on automatically. He waited.

It must have been a whole minute before Daryl finally moved. He turned, so that he was facing Rick, and opened the tube. He squirted some of its contents on his palm and waited, letting it warm up. Rick’s hand was still at his knee, and his fingers tightened when Daryl reached out and slowly, carefully, pressed his own hand to Rick’s abdomen. He rubbed Rick’s skin reverently, tentatively, as if Rick was made of glass and he was afraid of shattering it to pieces with too much pressure. It didn’t bother Rick. The mindful slide of Daryl’s hot palm over his flesh made something uncoil inside him, and all the tension started to leave Rick’s body. He let himself relax into the caress, keeping his eyes half-open, gazing at Daryl and letting the warmth of the moment envelop him.

Once Daryl was done, he tugged the shirt back down gingerly. Rick watched as he turned around and retrieved something… _One of his ridiculous blankets_ \- Rick’s mind supplied. And then, Daryl laid himself next to Rick and threw the blanket over the both of them. He turned on his side and faced Rick, then shifted closer slowly, carefully avoiding any unwanted touch. His alpha scent was sweeter, and Rick inhaled it in a long, unhurried breath. Then, Rick turned, too. With his front to Daryl, with only an inch of space separating them, it was suddenly easier to just lean forward and push his face into Daryl’s neck.

Rick sighed and closed his eyes, one hand traveling to Daryl’s vest, fingers curling around the soft leather. He was out before he knew it.


	12. There's no use crying about it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long chapter this time... also... Grady is coming, so get your tissues! <3 
> 
> Looooove all your comments! :3 Thanks for the continuous support! <3

On the next morning, Rick woke up to a contented sigh huffed right into his ear. Going by the quietness of the church, Rick reckoned they were alone inside. Daryl was still next to him, one arm wrapped around Rick’s shoulders, the other tucked between their bodies. He must have shifted during the night and his face was now pressed close to Rick’s neck. Daryl squirmed in place a little and his hand moved. He placed it on Rick’s chest and settled down again.

Rick shivered and tried to shift away slightly. It was _Daryl,_ and Daryl was _safe_ , but it didn’t stop his instinctive reaction to _move._

“Yer scent’s changin’.” A gruff voice surprised him into stillness. Rick didn’t want to make Daryl feel bad for that little bit of stolen closeness, so he stopped all his movements and tried to relax back into the blankets they were lying on. Daryl must have sensed that something was wrong, though. He removed his hand and pulled away, getting up. Rick watched as Daryl found his boots on the floor and pulled them on. He glanced at Rick briefly and paused, taking in Rick’s anxious expression.

“Should get movin’,” Daryl said. “Gotta go for Beth and Carol,” he explained and Rick nodded.  
“You’re not going alone, Daryl,” Rick protested, getting up, too. He knew Daryl would probably want to get back there as soon as possible, but they had already parted with Glenn and Maggie, there was no way Rick would let Daryl to go back there alone. Thankfully, his mate nodded hearing this.  
“I know. Need ya there, too,” Daryl admitted. “Ya an’ Tyreese... Sasha maybe. Glenn would be good, but ‘chonne told me yesterday that they took off.” He looked at Rick who just stood there, looking down at his socketed feet.

“Abe went…” Rick cleared his throat and started again, looking around for his cowboy boots. “Abe went all alpha male _bullshit_ on my ass,” he cringed, hearing Daryl’s growl.

“He _what!?”_ The hunter snarled, and Rick looked up at him. Daryl’s shoulders were hunched in a way that brought fightclubs and back-alley brawls to Rick’s mind. He shook his head hurriedly.  
“He didn’t _do_ anything. But he got pretty hot-headed,” Rick explained. “He demanded they go to the DC right that instant. Wanted to take the bus, too. I wanted to stop him. Glenn…” Rick sighed. “Glenn got between us. He wanted to stop the fight. Proposed they go with Abraham if he stayed one more night and helped us with Gareth and his group,” Rick went on. Daryl listened carefully, hands twitching at his sides.

“Abraham agreed. They took off yesterday,” Rick finished, shrugging. Daryl was still standing there, body rigid, fists clenching every now and then. He was silent for a long time, before he finally opened his mouth.  
“Should’a been here,” Daryl rasped. “Should’a put that ginger asshole back in the line,” he focused his stormy eyes on Rick. Daryl was overprotective of him and Rick knew that. His aggressive side was usually reined in tight, but when it came to other alphas threatening Rick, Daryl had always been on high alert.  
“To be honest,” Rick smirked, trying to lighten the mood up a bit. “I would’ve punched him if it hadn’t been for Glenn,” he gave a weak chuckle for good measure, feeling better when Daryl’s shoulders relaxed a bit.

Rick couldn’t help but think of Shane, who would have had bloody knuckles and Abraham’s teeth on the floor by then. It was good Daryl knew how to cool down his alpha instincts.

“I just…” Daryl started, then broke off, one hand coming up to his mouth. He gnawed at his thumbnail, and Rick frowned. He wanted to step closer and take that hand away. He stomped the urge down and waited patiently.

“I just don’t wan’ ya gettin’ hurt again,” Daryl whispered finally. Rick’s eyes widened. That feeling of warmth was back in his guts, making him feel all weird.  
“I’m fine,” Rick said - it was almost as if he needed to state the fact for Daryl’s benefit. Maybe for his own, too. “I’m alright. He didn’t hurt me.”  
“He might’ve…” Daryl muttered, but dropped the subject finally. He turned around and picked up his crossbow. “Meet me outside. We need t’ plan this,” he said and walked out of the church.

Rick found his boots and went to the bathroom. He followed Daryl a few minutes later.

 

-&-

 

Daryl and Rick decided to take Sasha and Tyreese with them. Together with Noah, it made for a full car. Michonne agreed to stay with Carl and Gabriel, keeping watch over Judith. Rick wasn’t really happy leaving her there, but he knew there was nobody who would protect his kids better than Michonne.

Daryl wanted to drive, so Rick rode shotgun. It wasn’t his favorite place in the car - he preferred to be the driver on most of their runs - but Daryl already knew the way, so it was logical to let him do it. Strangely enough, Rick didn’t mind it half as much as when Shane had insisted on driving their cruiser back in the day. That train of thoughts brought more memories from the past and Rick sighed, staring at the road in front of them.

“What’s wrong?” Daryl asked, side-eyeing him. Rick could practically feel Daryl’s gaze skirting over him, before it went back to the highway again.  
“Just… thinking,” Rick murmured. He was glad for the noise of the engine - it kept their conversation as private as if they were alone in the car.  
“Ya looked worried,” Daryl shrugged. “How are ya feelin’?”  
“Better,” Rick fought the urge to sigh again. He _did_ feel better. The dull ache in his abdomen wasn’t so noticeable anymore, and he wasn’t bleeding all over his clothes any longer. He told Daryl as much.

“That’s good,” Daryl gruffed. “Yer healin’ up.”  
“Yeah.” Rick nodded. He only hoped this healing thing would spread to his mind, too. He wanted to get better… Not even for himself, but for _Daryl,_ for that _thing_ they could have together.

Rick was aware that the skeletons in his closet needed to be exorcised sooner or later. Shane, Lori… _Joe._

Rick shivered and focused his eyes back on the road.

 

-&-

 

As soon as they found a good spot in the city - not too far away from the hospital, but far enough to be safe for the night - they started planning. Rick wanted to just walk inside and shoot them all, grab Beth and Carol, and get the hell out of there. If they had managed to grab a couple of the hospital people - they could press them for necessary information. He knew the plan was sound, he had learned it first-hand - it wasn’t like he hadn’t told his people to kill all the Termites just after they had gotten out of there.

Tyreese opposed. Rick gritted his teeth.

“Tyreese’s right,” Daryl said and Rick’s head snapped up. “We don’t have ta kill ‘em all. We grab a couple o’ their people… Can exchange them,” Daryl reasoned quietly. Rick opened his mouth to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat. Daryl must have seen it, for he started to explain his reasoning.

Rick didn’t listen - he was too busy trying to get Shane out of his head.

He agreed to Daryl’s plan anyway - mostly because what Daryl had proposed was logical. He agreed and got quiet, waiting for the night to fall.

When his people went to sleep, Rick was still wide awake. He was sitting on the floor, his back to one of the columns the building had. Daryl was on watch, and that gave Rick time to think. His thoughts wandered back and forth between Daryl and Shane. He couldn’t help but notice just how different their approaches were.

If Shane had wanted something from Rick, he had just taken it… or had tried to, anyway, because Rick had rarely let him. Daryl was different. Daryl asked and tried to reason, he never just took.

“Ya should be sleepin’,” a gruffy voice informed him, and Rick couldn’t help but smile. He shook his head, even though he knew Daryl couldn’t really see the movement - the inside of the building was too dark for that.  
“Was waiting for you,” Rick said quietly. He heard Daryl’s footsteps getting closer, until the hunter was standing right next to him.  
“Somethin’ wrong?” Daryl asked, sitting down. The heat radiating from his body started to seep right into Rick’s.  
“Thank you,” Rick whispered with a sigh. He could almost _hear_ Daryl’s frown. They were quiet for a long moment, until Rick started speaking again finally.

“You’re right,” he said, voice hushed not to wake everyone up. “You’re right, we don’t have to kill everyone. I just… I just don’t want a repeat of _Gareth_.”  
“Yeah, I know,” Daryl agreed. “But ‘s not the same.”  
“Mhm…” Rick hummed thoughtfully. “You saw this. Thank you.”  
“You’re welcome,” Daryl replied simply, and something shifted inside Rick. He thought about Shane, about the times when they had been together. About how badly it had ended.

“Shane was never like that, you know?” Rick’s voice was low, but Daryl didn’t have any trouble making out the words. He sat still and listened. “He always wanted to have his way… _always._ It used to drive me up the walls,” Rick gave a chuckle, but there was no mirth in it. Daryl could bet that, had there be any light, he would see those blue eyes filled with sadness. Rick went on, “I never wanted to be that kind of omega who listened to other alphas. I didn’t know how to live like that. Shane didn’t like it, but he learned to deal with it… didn’t stop him from trying, though.” Rick heaved in a breath and exhaled it slowly.

“D’he hurt ya?” Daryl asked, his voice barely a murmur in the darkness. Rick hummed, trying to force his suddenly tight throat to work, but it didn’t really help. He opened his mouth to say something, to state that ‘ _no, he didn’t’._ Or maybe, ‘ _yes, he did, but it’s just how those things work sometimes’._

No words came out, however, and with a startling clarity, Rick realized that the only right answer was his affirmative hum.  
“Yeah,” he said finally, “yeah, he did.” Rick could almost feel the tension creeping into Daryl’s muscles. His alpha scent changed and there was something spicy to it now, something that trickled down Rick’s spine like cold fear. It reminded him of Shane again, of just how unapproachable he had become on occasions. It had never taken much to get him riled up. He had calmed down quickly, too, but the moments Rick had spent trying to avoid him had been torturous. The logical part of his brain had always screamed at him to get away and wait till Shane calmed down, even when his inner omega had wailed and whined to get back to the alpha.

Rick had hated it. He had hated every second of hesitation when he had been fighting with himself to keep the distance between them. One day, he had started a different approach. Every time Shane had gotten angry or had been readying himself for an argument, Rick had taken him head-on. He had started to snarl and growl, which had finally ended with Shane backing off. The new tactic had worked so well that with time, Rick had just stared at Shane imploringly and the alpha would walk away to cool down.

But this wasn’t Shane. This was _Daryl,_ and Rick didn’t want to use all those tricks on him. Somewhere at the back of his mind, Rick knew he didn’t need to do that. Daryl wasn’t _like that,_ he wasn’t a hot-headed alpha trying to get Rick under his command.

Feeling like he needed to do something, Rick reached to the side, looking blindly for Daryl’s hand. He found it after a moment, Daryl’s strong fingers pushing hesitantly into his grasp, and Rick caught them tightly. He drew Daryl’s hand closer, until he could place it on his lap, and let their fingers entwine. Daryl shuffled closer and Rick let his body lean to the side, his head landing on his mate’s shoulder. His thumb started to rub a mindless pattern into Daryl’s palm, but he didn’t think much of it, and let his eyes fall shut.

 

-&-

 

Getting the cops was supposed to be easy.

_It wasn’t._

Their plan was sound - use Noah as the bait and get the cops to meet them. It worked nicely, up until the precise moment it _didn’t._

They had those fuckers on their knees, were zip-tying their hands and telling them just how screwed they were, when the car with a white cross at the back appeared. They all jumped aside, and the people in the car used the moment to try and get their buddies back. They almost succeeded, too.

Rick led the chase, Daryl hot on his heels, Sasha and Tyreese following. They stumbled into an old parking lot, a huge water tank towering over it, the words ‘EVAC HERE’ looking almost mocking with all the walkers crawling beneath it. Rick looked at Daryl, a silent request to pick the route. Daryl inclined his head in the direction of an old trailer, so Rick nodded and went in the opposite direction. They had to be quiet to surprise those assholes.

After circling a few cars and trailers, Rick stopped. He listened intently, hoping he would hear some kind of noise that would point him in the right direction, but his immediate surroundings were quiet. He frowned when he heard shuffling and sounds of fight somewhere in the distance. Cursing silently, Rick doubled back, his gun raised. He walked, until he could see the trailer next to which he had parted with Daryl. The noises were louder there and accompanied by the snarl of walkers. Rick frowned, picked up his pace and rounded a car.

Daryl was writhing on the ground, the runaway cop bent over him.

Something in Rick snapped.

He walked over, absentmindedly noticing how Daryl had grabbed a head of a walker and tore it off its body, then used it to pummel the guy on his head. It took a moment, but the cop finally moved away. It was a good thing, too - Rick couldn’t just shoot him from this distance, not without risking Daryl’s life. He walked closer just as the man was trying to hit Daryl again.

Rick shot a nearby walker first - the threat of Daryl getting bitten was just too big - and pointed his gun at the cop. The guy froze and smiled at him, a sleazy little thing that grated on Rick’s nerves. His trigger finger twitched.  
“Okay,” the cop said, his split lip stretching when he grinned. “You win, asshole.”

The last comment somehow managed to make Rick even angrier. He snarled and took a step closer, the silencer on his gun almost touching the cop’s forehead.  
“Rick.” Daryl’s voice sounded behind him, but Rick didn’t react. He wanted to kill that man. He wanted to kill him for trying to run, he wanted to kill him for that comment. _He wanted to kill him for hurting Daryl._ The scene from just a few moments ago flashed through Rick’s brain again. The cop bent over Daryl, trying to choke him with his bare hands, pressing him into the ground… And the guy just leered at him. He even had the audacity to stand up and straighten his back, as if he was daring Rick to shoot him...

 _“Rick.”_ Daryl said again, the urgency in his tone finally snapping Rick out of his trance. He looked up at the alpha. “Three’s better than two,” Daryl stated evenly, voice calm. Rick blinked, then blinked again. Daryl was standing right next to him, face and arms covered in grime, but intact. There wasn’t even that much blood anywhere on him, and when Rick took a deep breath, he could smell Daryl’s scent. It was there, present even despite the guy’s own alpha stink.

With a quiet huff, Rick lowered the gun and stared at the cop. The guy kept on grinning, before he opened his mouth.  
“I have to ask,” he started and Rick frowned. “The way you carry yourself… Were you a cop before all this?”

Rick didn’t know how to respond, so he just kept staring at the man.  
“I was, too. I helped people… I still help people,” the cop went on, until Daryl tied his hands together and shoved him forward, prompting him to move. Rick followed them, checking the surroundings for any remaining threats.

 

-&-

 

Later, the cop had somehow managed to run away. Rick followed him, Python in hand and murder on his mind. If the guy didn’t want to cooperate, who was Rick to judge?

Just as he was running past the guy’s cruiser, an idea struck him. The keys were still inside, and Rick could use the car - the brief run they had done before had brought back that throbbing kind of pain in his stomach.

Rick was sick of it.

He jumped into the cruiser and took off, quickly closing the distance between him and the cop still running away. Rick growled and reached to the side, his hand finding the radio automatically. He switched it to the outside speakers and grabbed the receiver.

“Stop.” He commanded, giving the man a chance. He doubted the cop would take it.

“Stop right now!” He tried again, but the guy just kept running. It was almost like one of his chases with Shane. They had been called to the scene of a house break-in, and had found the man responsible on the driveway. He had taken off as soon as he had spotted Rick’s cruiser. Shane hadn’t wanted to run after him, so Rick had floored it.

“Stop!” Rick reckoned that asking a suspect to stop _three times_ was enough. He wasn’t a sheriff’s deputy anymore, after all, and even if he had been, the rules of the old world didn’t apply any longer.

He didn’t feel bad when he pushed the accelerator to the floor and hit the guy.

“Son of a bitch,” the cop muttered, shifting on the ground. Rick got out of the car and looked around. “Help me! You crazy... You crazy son of a bitch!” The guy yapped on and Rick walked over to him. “I think you... I think you broke my back!”  
“Didn't have to be like this.” Rick shrugged, checking his Colt. “You just had to stop.” He scooted down and looked at the man. Like this, vulnerable and hurt, the cop looked out of his element. Rick could smell the panic on him, his alpha scent that had previously irritated Rick was getting sour.  
“I couldn't,” The cop went on. “I don't know you. But I think... I think I'm getting the idea.”  
“You just had to stop,” Rick shrugged again and got up. He looked around, eyes focusing on a few walkers ambling around. They were coming towards them.

Rick raised his Python and pointed it at the guy. He didn’t feel anything when he squeezed the trigger.

 

-&-

 

They managed to agree on a meeting.

When another cruiser pulled up and two officers spilled out of it, Rick took a deep breath. He knew Daryl had an eye on him, Sasha, too. She was a crack shot and she was ready to take out anyone who tried something stupid. Rick hoped they wouldn’t.

He raised his hands and walked forward, eyeing the two cops. It was weird to do this without Shane at his side… Rick tried not to let his memories get to him - the whole day he had been feeling like a twisted version of his former self.

Clearing his throat and looking ahead, Rick focused on the cops in front of him.  
“Officer Franco, Officer McGinley,” Rick addressed them. “I'm Rick Grimes. I was a deputy in the King County Sheriff's Department. I'm here to make a proposal.” He kept his hands up, waiting for the information to sink in.  
“Put your gun down,” one of the men commanded.  
“All right.” Rick nodded, reaching for his Colt. He used his left hand, trying to appear non threatening enough so that they would cooperate.

“What's your proposal?” One of them asked and Rick finally lowered his hands.  
“You have two of my people, I have two of yours. We want to make an exchange,” Rick said, looking from one officer to another. “Then we'll be on our way. No one gets hurt.”  
“Who?”  
“Officers Shepherd and Licari, for Beth and Carol,” Rick explained. “You picked up a woman yesterday after your people hit her with a car.” He waited as the cops thought something over.  
“Noah,” one of them finally spoke, “he's with you? That's how you know?”  
“Yes, he is.” Rick nodded. He didn’t really see the need to cover for Noah. The kid was going back with them, probably. If he wanted.

“What about Officer Lamson?” He asked again and Rick grimaced, hearing the question.  
“He was attacked by the dead before we got to him.”  
“Where are your people?” The other guy asked. Rick tilted his head, hoping Daryl would see it.  
“They're close,” Rick muttered, hearing a walker approaching. The next moment, its head exploded, and Rick fought the urge to smirk at the officers shocked expressions. _Way to go, Daryl!_  
“Radio your lieutenant,” Rick said, taking a step back. “I'll wait.”

 

-&-

 

When they approached the hospital - a huge, gray thing, looming over the nearby parking lot - Rick was glad Daryl was with them. He had the most ridiculous urge to reach out and take Daryl’s hand. It was stupid, it wasn’t as if the building scared him specifically. Rick knew what would happen, he knew the deal they had made and he knew what to expect. But… there was something ominous and threatening hanging in the air, suspended over all of them like invisible fog.

The inside of the hospital was quiet and semi-dark. They walked through the corridors with one of the hostage cops at the front - Daryl’s way of ensuring that nobody would shoot at them.

Thankfully, nobody did. As soon as they rounded the last corner and stopped in front of a heavy door, they peeked through the small window in it. A group of people in police uniforms was waiting for them at the other end of the corridor. They were all armed, and Rick paused his own team, keeping a healthy distance.  
“Holster your weapons.” The command came from a female officer and all of her people followed - Rick suspected she must have been the one in charge. He turned around, gaze jumping from Daryl to Sasha, before it focused on the two hostages they had. Rick nodded thoughtfully.  
“You, too,” he gruffed out, addressing his whole group. There was a bit of silence - nobody was keen on parting with their gun.

Daryl was the first to react. He crossbow had already been dangling on his shoulder, but he had a gun in his hand, which he tucked behind the waistband of his pants. He adjusted the strap of a machine gun he had with him, and just stood there, waiting for the next step. Seeing this, the others followed.

Rick waited until all of them had their weapons tucked away - out of sight but within easy reach if the situation demanded it. With one last glance at Daryl, Rick pushed the door open. They all spilled out, the cops at the front, Rick and Daryl in the next line. They walked a few steps closer to the group waiting for them and paused, watching their next move.

Rick couldn’t really believe his eyes when he saw them part and reveal two people standing quietly behind.

Beth - their gentle, quiet, fierce Beth - was standing right there, behind a wheelchair in which Carol sat. Both of them were alive, both of them were smiling slightly, their eyes were misty and their hands were twitching with nerves. Rick had never wanted to hug them both more than in this second. He must have made some kind of a god very pleased to have those two, alive and coming back to him.

Rick looked at the female cop.  
“They haven't been harmed,” he said, nodding at the two officers they had taken hostage.  
“Where's Lamson?” She asked instead, and Rick frowned. Somehow he had known this question would pop up sooner or later. He waited for the hostages to speak.  
“Rotters got him.” The woman was first to open her mouth, her partner joining in just two beats later.  
“We saw it go down.”

Oh, how grateful Rick was for talking to them about this. He might have threatened them with his Colt, but it paid off in the end.  
“I'm sorry to hear that,” the female officer said, “he was one of the good guys,” she went on, eyeing her friends, and Rick suddenly just wanted this to end. She didn’t know when to quit, and that reminded him about Shane just a bit too much. He cleared his throat to get her attention.

“One of yours for one of mine,” she proposed finally.  
Rick nodded with a calm, “all right.”

He motioned for the guy to go forward first. He did so with a sleazy smile that reminded Rick of just how much he wanted to punch that particular alpha in the face. Daryl must have sensed his mood, because he stepped forward and grabbed the man’s elbow, shoving him roughly forward. Rick felt a strange warmth spreading through his limbs when he saw the display of strength between the two alphas. It wasn’t obvious to everyone, but it was there and Rick could see it.

The guy hesitated - Daryl shoved him harder. The guy’s ugly smile widened - Daryl ignored him.

It was such a _Daryl_ way to do it, too, not riling up the other alpha, just ignoring him and showing him exactly who was the one in power here.

The warm feeling tingled through the tips of Rick’s fingers.

He stood there, hand ready to reach for his Colt if necessary, and watched as one of the officers at the other side walked to the wheelchair Carol was sitting in, and pushed it forward. He had a bag with what Rick suspected were medical supplies. Daryl grabbed it as soon as he could, threw it over his shoulder and took a hold of the wheelchair. He turned around and walked back to Rick, giving him a shy smile, before his eyes went to Carol. Rick nodded at him and stepped forward wordlessly.

He grabbed the other hostage - the woman - by her tied hands and pushed, walking her forward. She went without fuss, probably wanting it all done. Rick breathed out a quiet sigh of relief feeling no resistance, but schooled his features into a mask of concentration. He knew exactly how threatening he looked - he had seen himself in the countless windows they had passed on their way here, after all. He only hoped that no alpha would try anything stupid seeing an omega in charge at such a close distance. It had always been his concern when he had been in the force.

Thankfully, nobody moved, apart from that female cop who was the boss here. She shoved Beth forward and walked her to the middle of the corridor. Rick stopped a few steps from them and let the hostage walk the rest of the way on her own. Beth walked evenly towards him, leaning into him when Rick wrapped one arm around her shoulders.  
“You okay?” He whispered so quietly that only Beth heard it. She gave a tiny nod and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Fighting the urge to hug her tightly, Rick leaned in and brushed a soft little kiss on her head, just like he would with Carl or Judith. Beth smelled just like he remembered her from the prison, her sweet, calming scent disturbed only by the antiseptic that seemed to permeate every hospital even in the apocalypse.

He glanced at the group of cops behind them and nodded, before he turned around to face his own team. Daryl was standing next to Carol, eyes laser-sharp and focused on Rick and Beth. His hand twitched at his side, and Rick gave him a reassuring smile, before he started to walk to them, Beth still tucked safely under his arm.

“Glad we could work things out,” the woman-in-charge called after them and Rick twisted his head around to look at her.  
“Yeah.” He answered simply, intent on getting the hell out of there and as soon as possible, but her next words rooted him to the spot.  
“Now I just need Noah,” she said, voice authoritative. It reminded Rick about all the shitty alphas he had had to face in his line of work, and he winced. “And then you can leave,” she finished, and Rick turned around, eyes hard.  
“That wasn't part of the deal,” he ground out.  
“Noah was my ward,” she explained. “Beth took his place and I'm losing her, so I need him back.”

There was some shifting behind her, one of the officers speaking up.  
“Ma'am, please, it's not - ”  
“Shepherd!” She snapped at him, “my officers put their lives on the line to find him. One of them died,” she went on, bringing her gaze back to Rick. There was something determined in her eyes that rubbed Rick the wrong way.  
“No, he ain't staying,” Daryl growled behind him.  
“He's one of mine.”  
“You have no claim on him!” Rick countered. “The boy wants to go home, so you have no claim on him.”

There was a beat of silence, filled only with Daryl’s quiet, angry huff somewhere behind Rick’s shoulder - it was strangely comforting. It also gave Rick all the strength he needed. _Daryl had his back._

“Well, then we don't have a deal,” the woman stated, deadly serious. Rick felt his blood boil.  
“The _deal_ is _done!”_ He snarled at her, turning to her fully and stepping forward, instinctively shielding the rest of his family from the group of cops.

“It's okay.” A quiet voice from behind him said, and Rick almost growled with frustration.  
“No.” He snapped at Noah, eyes never leaving the woman in charge. “No!”  
“I gotta do it,” Noah tried again, stepping forward, and Rick threw one arm to the side to stop him.

From the corner of his eye, Rick could see Beth stepping forward.  
“It's not okay,” she said quietly. Rick felt all his muscles tighten. He looked to the side, spotting Noah holding out a gun.

Rick took it gingerly.

“It's settled,” the female cop stated, eyes shifting from Noah to Rick. She had that infuriating twitch to her lips that made Rick want to punch her. He would be startled by this thought, if it wasn’t for Noah walking away from them with Beth following.  
“Wait!” Beth called to Noah, prompting him to pause and turn to face her.  
“It's okay.” The kid tried to smile, but it came out strained.

She threw her arms around him, and Rick hated that tight feeling that settled in his gut. He tried to work on a plan to get Noah out of here… Maybe a bribe? No, that wouldn’t work, not on that alpha-wannabe female cop there. Shooting would just end in death, and Rick didn’t want any more blood on his hands - not today, not when he had just gotten two of his family members back.

He watched helplessly, as Noah shuffled towards the group, gritting his teeth when he noticed Beth following him.  
“I knew you'd be back,” the cop said, sounding very self-satisfied. Rick winced. He wanted to get Beth back, she was far too close to the other group. He took a step forwards, hearing Daryl shift behind him. Beth said something to the woman and -

And then all hell broke loose.

Beth drew her hand back, quick as a lightning, and brought it down on the cop’s shoulder. Something metallic shined in the light falling through the windows, and Rick watched in horror, as the woman did the only thing a trained officer would do in this situation - she reached for her gun.

There wasn’t enough time to shout, there wasn’t enough time to _blink_.

One moment, Beth was standing there, the next, she was falling down in a spray of blood.

It happened so quickly, Rick just stood there, frozen, incapable of comprehending what had just happened. Beth fell to the floor, the back of her head painted crimson. Rick glanced at her, belatedly realizing that his own face was wet. He ran one shaking hand over his cheekbone and looked down on it through his suddenly cloudy eyes.

_Blood. So much blood._

He felt more than saw Daryl moving next to him, stepping forward, one hand raised.

The gunshot sounded almost hollow in the small corridor.

Rick watched, detached, as the female cop fell to the floor, eyes open in shock. Daryl stood next to him, chest heaving, and for a second, Rick wanted to just wrap his arms around his mate - the urge to hug him was so overwhelming, it drowned out everything else.

But then, he registered the raised weapons in front of him, heard the clicking of the guns _behind him,_ as color and sound rushed back into the world.

“No! Hold your fire!” Another of them shouted - the cop they had taken hostage before, Rick realized. “It's over,” she stated shakily. Rick blinked away the wetness, tried to make his own throat work.

“It was just about her. Stand _down!”_ She commanded the other officers, and they all lowered their weapons. For a long moment, nobody moved from their spot. Rick could hear Daryl’s heavy breathing, each exhale that ended on a small, pained whimper. Rick swallowed thickly.

“You can stay. We're surviving here. It's better than out there,” the woman went on, but Rick shook his head, feeling tears slipping down his cheeks.  
“No,” he croaked, “and I'm taking anyone back there who wants to leave… If you want to come with us just… just step forward now,” he waved his hand, then glanced at it. He’d been holding his Python this whole time without knowing when he had grabbed it.

He looked back at the cops. A few doctors were standing behind them.

Nobody moved.

“We have…” one of the doctors started, then cleared his throat, before continuing. “We have medical supplies. If any of you need them,” he proposed, looking down at the floor. Rick frowned hearing this. Daryl took a sharp breath next to him, but didn’t say anything. Rick shot a glance in his direction, but his mate’s eyes were focused on Beth, mouth open, quiet pants escaping him every now and then.

After what felt like eternity, Daryl finally shifted his gaze. It landed first on Rick’s waist, then slowly crawled up. The pain Rick could see in Daryl’s eyes almost choked him.  
“No,” Rick shook his head slightly. “You’ve done enough.” And with that, he stepped closer to Beth, intent on taking her out of there. He couldn’t just leave her like this, couldn’t let them do god knows what to her body. She was one of them, _his family,_ and he wouldn’t just leave her.

Before he could scoot down, Daryl stopped him with a sharp ‘no’. He walked over to Beth and scooped her up gingerly. Rick didn’t say a word, he just turned around and nodded at his group to move.

 

-&-

 

The moment they all walked out of the hospital, was one of the worst in Rick’s life. Even before he set one foot outside, he knew the day was going to get a lot worse.

Their whole family was walking towards them. Michonne, Glenn, _Maggie…_ even Abraham and his team.

Rick took a deep breath and rubbed away the tears still threatening to spill from his eyes. He strode forward. A few steps out, and he suddenly felt cold, the Georgia sun glaring down at him not enough to warm him up. He walked on, shaking his head minutely when Maggie looked at him with a bright smile. He didn’t know how to do it, he didn’t know how to tell her that her little sister was dead.

So Rick stepped to the side and fixed his eyes on the concrete under his feet.

Maggie’s scream echoed through Rick’s very _bones,_ leaving him shivering and making him jerk his head up to look.

Daryl stood there - a vision of a post-apocalyptic angel - with Beth’s body hanging limp from his shaking arms. He was crying as he walked forward, eyes almost squeezed shut and face twisted in pain.

Rick let his tears fall freely.


	13. There must be something deep down in the dark

 Daryl was quiet.

Rick watched him through his stumbling walk to the cars, all the way out of the city and into the woods.

He watched him during the mostly-silent funeral at a beautiful clearing they had found. It was filled with grass and little white flowers, illuminated by the sun shining down from the clear sky.

Rick couldn’t stop thinking how ironic it was, to lose someone so innocent on such a beautiful day.

He cast glances at Daryl, trying to stomp down his own urge to wrap his arms around his mate and hold him close. He had tried it one time, just before they buried Beth’s body. Daryl had shrugged him off with a quiet ‘no’ and stepped away. Rick didn’t try after that, giving Daryl his space, even if it hurt to see his mate like this.

They moved on about an hour after the funeral. Maggie was still crying when they got into the cars, and Rick felt bad for her. He raked his brain for some words of comfort, but came up empty-handed, so he resolutely kept his mouth shut. He turned to the side, eyeing Daryl.

The hunter was still quiet.

 

-&-

 

They were walking through the forest again, and it was the first time Daryl was sick of it. He didn’t even know why, he just wanted to stop somewhere. Pause and take a breather. _Sit down with Rick next to him and forget about Beth dying._

_On his watch._

_Like some kind of a sick joke._

He had failed her again. The first time had been when he had let those fuckers take her away from him. The second one had been when he had stopped looking for her.

This? This was worse. He had found her just to lose her again. It wasn’t fair. It was like some ironic laughter of Fate, looking down at the mortals and waiting to fuck them up at the first opportunity.

“Daryl…” Rick’s voice startled him. Daryl turned his head to the side, glancing at his mate. Rick’s eyes were sad and his lips were pressed into a thin line. Daryl knew Rick was obviously hurting, he could see it in Rick’s expression, he knew it on a logical level… _he could smell it in Rick’s scent._ But, there was something so crushing about what had happened that Daryl had troubles being the rock Rick needed him to be. The grief after losing Beth had shattered him a bit too much.

Right now, he felt like a dead man walking.

“We should find a place to stay for the night…” Rick started, but trailed off. His voice was low and his gaze was filled with pain, and Daryl absentmindedly wondered if the man had any more tears to shed. God knew they had done their fair share of crying for the next five years.   
“Yeah,” Daryl answered with a nod. He started to scan their surroundings, trying to find a path or a trail in the forest, something that could lead them to some kind of shelter.

He found none.

They walked on, the silence stretching between them like cobwebs, sticky and all-encompassing.

 

-&-

 

They had stumbled upon an old road that led to Noah’s previous group.

Or so they had thought, before they got inside the walled community, only to discover corpses walking everywhere.

They had lost Tyreese then.

Rick was too exhausted and mentally drained to cry. Daryl just shut off.

They dug him a shallow grave just on the side of the road. The earth was too scorched for a proper one.

And the heat was too great to keep on trying.

 

-&-

 

By the end of the day, they had found a little cabin. It was wooden and barely holding itself together, but it had a roof and four walls that would survive another night, so they all went in.

Once their group divided itself into threes and fours, and took different rooms and couches, Daryl declared the first night shift his. He wandered out without another word, and Rick watched him go with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. They had barely talked all day, and while not talking wasn’t anything unusual for them, they usually did exchange a few words here and there. Now, though… Daryl had resorted to grunts and huffs, something that spoke volumes about him isolating himself from Rick. Normally, when Rick asked a question, he had a verbal answer coming, not a shrug with a barely-there sound following.

Not really having to think much about it, Rick followed. He stepped out of the cabin and onto a little porch, eyes immediately searching Daryl out in the half-darkness of the early night. The hunter was sitting in the corner, his knees curled up to his chest, eyes focused on something in the forest. Rick walked up to him and sat down without a word. He could feel anxiety pouring off of Daryl, could _taste it in his smell._ The protective scent it usually carried was nowhere to be found, buried under layers and layers of fear and grief.

“What do you need?” Rick asked finally, when it became apparent that Daryl wouldn’t open his mouth on his own. Rick’s mate was hurting and, while he was in quite a state himself, he wanted to help in any way he could.   
“Ya an’ Shane… Did ya get up to some crazy shit?” Daryl mumbled the question out after a long moment.   
“Yeah, I guess, why?” Rick answered, side-eyeing him. Daryl just shrugged.   
“Wha’ was the craziest?”

It was a weird question, they rarely talked about Shane. Rick was ready to ask ‘why’ again, but then it hit him. Daryl wanted to _listen._ He didn’t want to talk, he just wanted to sit there and listen, and not have to think about what had happened earlier that day. Searching his mind for anything idiotic he and Shane had done together, Rick came up with a few stories.   
“There was one time… we were still rookies,” Rick started, leaning back against the wall behind him. “We were out patrolling, a normal boring shift in the middle of nowhere. It was sunny and it was hot, and we were both bored out of our minds. Shane pulled up on the side of an abandoned road, no cars in sight. He looked at me and asked if I was up for a quickie…” Rick shook his head, remembering the good old days.

“We got out of the car and got to the front… Shane only went as far as putting my hands on the hood and opening my trousers, before I felt the car moving away,” Rick huffed out a quiet laugh. He looked at Daryl and saw the alpha watching him with narrowed eyes. “Shane was the one driving. _He forgot to put the handbrake on._ We just stood there for a moment, two idiots looking at the runaway cruiser… The road was on a small hill and the car just rolled down. We chased it for a good mile, _pants open,_ before it finally slowed down enough for us to jump in and stop it,” Rick grinned, seeing Daryl smirk a bit.

“Sounds like Shane was a handful,” he said and Rick shrugged.   
“There were good times… there were bad ones, too.”   
“Mhm…” Daryl nodded, his gaze flickering to the forest again. Rick licked his lips and looked down. He heaved out a sigh.   
“Sometimes Shane was a bit too much. He came home one day, just after his long shift. Got crazy right from the doorstep. I was in heat, and you know how that goes,” Rick paused for a moment, one hand coming up and pinching the bridge of his nose.   
“He hurt ya,” Daryl gruffed out quietly and Rick nodded.   
“Yeah. He wouldn’t really take no for an answer. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to have sex with him, I was _in heat,_ after all. I just didn’t want kids… He didn’t listen,” Rick said, swallowing loudly. He could hear Daryl shifting next to him.

“He fucked me in our hallway, then in the living room. Would have been the best sex of my life, if I hadn’t been so fucking terrified of getting pregnant…” Rick trailed off, rubbing his hands over his face. “It was different with you…” He confessed quietly, glancing at Daryl. The hunter had his eyes closed, fists clenched where they rested on his knees.   
“‘m sorry,” Daryl rasped out, voice croaky. Rick shook his head.   
“Not your fault. I’m not trying… _Fuck._ I just wanted to say, I don’t know how this thing between us is gonna work.”   
“Ya wanna out?” Daryl asked, and Rick almost choked on his own saliva in his haste to answer.

“No. _No!”_ He turned fully to Daryl, ducking his head a little to catch Daryl’s gaze. “I don’t want an out. Daryl… I _love_ you. I can’t… I can’t _do this_ without you… I’m just not sure _you_ won’t want an out once we get to the DC,” Rick finished bitterly, voice getting lower with every sentence. “My heat is going to come finally, now that I’m… And you know how it goes. You’ll want pups, you’ll want _a family_ , and I _can’t provi-”_   
“Already have it,” Daryl interrupted him, narrowed eyes focused on Rick. “‘m not gonna want more. Not if it would break ya. Hell, I never thought I would have a kid, an’ now? I have two of ‘em,” Daryl nodded his head at the cabin behind them. “Don’t need more.”

“What about sex?” Rick asked, biting his lip. Daryl only shrugged again.   
“Lived without it fer so long, can do it ‘gain,” he mumbled, looking down at his hands. “I ain’t gonna ask fer somethin’ ya can’t give, Rick,” he added, and Rick suddenly felt very warm inside. He leaned in slowly and carefully, softly, pressed his lips to Daryl’s. The kiss was chaste and slow, but Daryl reciprocated it in the same tentative manner, parting his lips when Rick licked over them, letting him do whatever he wanted.

“I wanna try,” Rick murmured, pulling away a bit. Daryl looked at him, eyes dark. “I wanna try but I don’t want you to regret it…” Not like he regretted Shane… Not like _Lori_ had regretted _him._ Daryl shook his head slightly, one hand sneaking to Rick’s hair and threading through his curls, before he let it slide lower. He brushed his fingers over Rick’s beard, the very tips of them slipping through the graying hairs. Rick closed his eyes with a sigh.   
“Ain’t gonna regret it,” Daryl whispered, moving forward, placing a gentle kiss to Rick’s forehead. “Love ya,” he breathed against Rick’s skin. “Lost Beth today, don’ wanna lose ya, too.”

Rick couldn’t really help himself when he moved forward, getting closer to Daryl and pressing against his chest, tucking his face into Daryl’s neck.   
“You’re not gonna lose me,” Rick muttered, pushing his nose against Daryl’s pulse point, smiling when he felt the heartbeat.

They stayed like this for the remainder of Daryl’s shift. Rick had dozed off somewhere in the middle, his body becoming heavy and boneless against Daryl’s, and the hunter just wrapped his arms around Rick’s chest and held him close. It was getting cold in the night, and Daryl wished he had something to cover Rick with. But the only thing he had nearby was his own jacket, and taking it off would surely wake Rick up. Daryl knew their leader was still healing and needed any sleep he could get, so he just tugged the sides of the jacket forward and around Rick a bit, cocooning him in whatever warmth he could find.

Daryl thought about what Rick had told him. It wasn’t that he was particularly surprised hearing the story - he had always known that Shane had been the violent type. He had gone soft around the edges whenever Rick had been thrown into the mix, but the brutality he had possessed had usually lingered somewhere under the surface. Daryl might not have been surprised, but he was certainly worried. He didn’t like it that Shane had forced himself on Rick, no matter how cool Rick tried to play it off.

_‘What about sex?’_

Daryl shivered a little, despite the heat trapped between them. He glanced down at Rick, taking in his features, relaxed and all smoothed out. He looked ten years younger like this, soft and fragile, and Daryl had to resist the urge to tighten his arms, lest he woke Rick up.

He didn’t think sex would be a problem. Sure, he would probably get a little crazy when Rick’s heat struck, but he could control himself. He knew that, he had tested it before. Back, at the beginning of the apocalypse, there had been a young guy tagging along with him and Merle. He had been on suppressants, too, and they had run out about one week after the end of the world had started. Merle hadn’t been amused, and the kid had been terrified. Merle’s attitude had gone from aggressive to downright sleazy, and Daryl had to step in before he had hurt the guy.

What he had gotten for his trouble had been a black eye and the kid disappearing on them on the first occasion. But that had been all… well, maybe a case of a very persistent hard-on, but it had never gone further than that.

Daryl knew he could keep his inner alpha at bay and keep his hands off Rick, if that was what Rick wished. He hoped that they could do _something -_ the memory of their night together haunting Daryl in his dreams - but he wouldn’t complain to get just a few cuddles and kisses. His right hand still worked just fine, and he could certainly put it to good use once the situation got dire.

A loud creaking noise interrupted his thoughts, and Daryl whipped his head around, spotting Glenn and Maggie standing in the doorway, guns in hands. Glenn looked surprised to see them, while Maggie had a small smile on her lips, that gentle kind that Daryl thought lost forever after Beth had died. He looked back at Rick, one hand going to Rick’s shoulder and squeezing it gently.

Rick muttered something under his breath, sighed and snuggled closer, settling down again. Daryl smirked, seeing this. It felt so good to have Rick like this, trusting him completely to let himself be vulnerable, but they had to get back inside and let Maggie and Glenn take the next shift. Besides, Daryl’s legs had started to go numb some time ago, and he felt a change in position would do him some good.

“Rick,” he murmured, squeezing Rick’s shoulder again. This time, Rick’s eyes blinked open, gaze a lot more alert than it should be just after coming to.   
“Dare?” He rasped out, Daryl’s name coming out as a gruffy whisper. Rick smiled softly, eyebrows raising in question.   
“Glenn’s ‘ere to change us,” Daryl explained, nodding his head to the side. He felt a bit sad when that gentle smile disappeared from Rick’s face and was replaced with a frown. Rick looked over his shoulder, spotting their friends just standing there, staring.

“Uh…” Glenn started, cleaning his throat. “I guess that’s a secret?” He said it like it was a question, and Maggie snorted humorlessly.   
“I’m pretty sure everyone knows by now,” she said, voice level. Glenn glanced at her, before his gaze went back to Rick and Daryl. They were trying to compose themselves, standing up and dusting their pants off. Once they were done, Daryl just stood there, eyes focused on the floor. Rick looked at Maggie.

“We’re happy for you,” she said finally, and Rick averted his gaze for a second.   
“Thanks,” he muttered. _As if it had been that easy._   
“Come on,” Glenn piped in, “go, get some sleep. Our turn to cover our asses,” he glanced behind and into the cabin. It was quiet inside, dark and still. Rick felt the pull of sleep again. He stole a glance at Daryl who shuffled on his feet next to him.   
“The bedroom is free, if you want,” Maggie said quietly. “The bed’s not big, but it’s comfy. You two deserve some good quality sleep.” She eyes the spot on the porch where Rick had been curled up with Daryl just a few minutes earlier.

Daryl was the first to move, walking into the house quietly and without a backwards glance. Rick followed, closing the door behind them.

The bedroom was small, like the rest of the cabin. It had a bed pushed up against one of the walls. The bed was tiny, too - barely enough for one person to sprawl on it comfortably. But, the mattress looked soft, and Daryl looked _so welcoming_ when he lied down on it, Rick couldn’t help himself, but join. He crawled on it slowly, thinking about the best place to settle down, when Daryl shuffled to the side a bit, making room between him and the wall. Rick plopped down with a long sigh, shifting a bit to get into a comfortable position. Then he remembered their recent sleeping arrangements and tentatively, carefully, turned to face Daryl. The hunter was watching him calmly, his alpha scent flowing around Rick.

Rick moved closer, pressing his chest to Daryl’s side and laying his head on Daryl’s shoulder. The position had no right to be as comforting as it was, but Rick didn’t really have the mental power to pick his reactions apart. He decided to just roll with it, close his eyes and let the sleep claim him.

 

-&-

 

Over the next few days, it had become apparent that their situation was dire. They had little food and even less water. The drought was quickly becoming a problem - unforgiving sun beating up on them and no rain in sight. It was hard to breathe sometimes, the air was so hot and stifling. They kept to what little shadow they could find, sticking to the main roads against their better judgment - it was even worse without any wind in the woods, and the black tarmac was a lot more even and easier to walk on.

“Gonna look fer water,” Daryl gruffed out when they were halfway through their scheduled stops. Daryl walked up to Rick, gave him Judith and his rifle, and went to the side of the road. He jumped over the ditch and disappeared between the trees.

Rick gritted his teeth and marched on.

He wanted to go with Daryl, he felt that his mate was hurting again, _was hurting still,_ but he couldn’t really leave the whole group like that. He looked at Judith, sighed, and walked on, silently hoping that Daryl would find them a stream or even a puddle.

“It will rain,” Carl spoke next to him and Rick nodded, absentmindedly checking the clouds hanging above them. They were big, they were gray, and they had yet to produce anything in the shape of rain. He sighed.   
“I hope so,” he muttered.   
“It will… You know how we always got that week of constant rain back home?” Carl asked and Rick turned his head to look at him properly. He didn’t know Carl remembered that.   
“Yeah, I do,” Rick nodded again. Carl smiled, looking up.   
“Those clouds looked exactly like that,” he said, pointing up.

Judith wriggled in Rick’s arms and gurgled something, before she started to make more urgent noises. Rick frowned, checking the diaper. It was clean.   
“Carl?” He asked, handing Judith over to his son, who took her with that smile of his which spoke of brotherly pride. Rick took off his backpack as soon as his hands were free. He glanced inside and took a deep breath.

_Two bottles of water left._

They needed a plan and they needed it fast.

 

-&-

 

They stopped for a short break exactly an hour later. They all sat where they were standing, grateful for the trees providing at least some relief from the scorching sun. Heavy clouds were gathering on the horizon, full with promise of water and a change of weather, but they were still so far away, Rick was slowly losing hope.

There was a rustle of leaves and they all perked up, hearing snapping twigs and moving rocks. Rick’s head snapped up, hand going to his gun automatically, but he relaxed once he saw Daryl climbing out from the ditch.

Daryl shook his head as soon as he caught Rick’s gaze, his defeated stance telling Rick all he needed to know. Rick shook his head, too.

_Nobody had found any water._

Daryl huffed out tiredly and walked closer, sitting on the ground next to Rick, placing his hand gently on Judith’s cheek when she turned to look at him. She was crawling around on Rick’s jacket, picking up rocks and throwing them, Carl sitting nearby and making sure she didn’t try to eat them. Daryl smiled softly and glanced up at Rick.

There was something so intense in Rick’s eyes that Daryl felt his breath stuttering in his chest. He looked around, frowning when he noticed that everyone looked exhausted, biting his lip when he realized how badly they all needed water and food. He was almost ready to jump up again, ignore his own exhaustion, and go off in search of some kind of salvation for them, when he heard growling behind them.

Daryl turned around quickly, seeing from the corner of his eye as Rick drew his knife. His own hand went to his belt, too, before he turned around fully and faced whatever was waiting for them.

 _Dogs_.

A pack of feral dogs, dirty and scrawny, with their teeth bared and their muzzles held down threateningly, was growling and snarling at them. Daryl would have laughed, had it not been for the danger they posed.

_He had always wanted to have a dog… Figure that._

Before he could get into a defensive position, there was a soft whistle of the bullets flying and the dogs started to fall down one after another. Daryl whipped his head to the side, surprised when he spotted Sasha with her rifle, glaring down the barrel at the bloodied mess of fur.

Rick was the first to move. He stood up calmly and walked to the side, bending over and retreating a fallen branch. He snapped it into smaller pieces and threw those in a pile on the side of the road. Daryl went to help him. _Food was food,_ after all.

Others joined them reluctantly, and soon, they had a nice fire going on, juicy meat roasting over it. Daryl had half a mind to collect the blood and drink it, but he resisted, hearing a distant thunder. It would rain soon, _it had to._

 

-&-

 

Five hours, and two stops later, Michonne’s voice startled everyone into stillness.   
“What’s _that?”_ She asked, pointing at something standing on the road ahead of them. Rick blinked, then looked at Daryl, who frowned, eyes going back to the strange object in the distance. They told everyone to stay put and wandered forth to investigate, Michonne in tow.

Water.

_Bottled water._

With a note, ‘From a friend.’

Rick looked around, his insides twisting. Someone had clearly been following them, long enough to see that they desperately needed water, and then left them suspiciously looking bottles in the middle of the road… He glanced at Daryl, but the hunter was already in his _battle mode,_ eyes focused on the line of the forest, the crossbow held high. Michonne looked at the note, then at the bottles. She glanced around, deep in thought.   
“Maybe it really is a friend?” She mused aloud and Daryl scoffed. Rick turned to her.   
“You’re gonna risk it?” He asked, tilting his head, eyebrows high. Michonne’s brow creased even more.

“No.” She finally stated, blinking and looking away. Rick turned to Daryl, who nodded at him, lowering his crossbow. _The coast was clear._ Rick waved the rest of their group closer, still glancing warily around. Whoever it had been, they had obviously gotten uncomfortably close to them.

“What’s up, Rick?” Abraham asked, straightening up, almost as if he was standing in front of his commanding officer. Rick shook his head, still watching the line of the trees.   
“We may have company,” he said in a low voice. Michonne stepped closer and handed Abe the note she was holding. The ginger looked at it, eyebrows raising, before he scanned the woods around them, too.   
“Holy dick,” Abe muttered, glancing around.   
“What is it?” Maggie asked, walking closer, Glenn and Eugene behind her, the rest of their group following. Rick turned to her.   
“Someone’s left us water and a note,” he said skeptically. Maggie’s eyes widened.

Before Rick could say anything else, Eugene was tearing through them, grabbing one bottle and opening it with a quiet “screw it!” He started to pour the liquid into his mouth when Abe slapped his hand away, making the bottle fall down and splash wetly on the road.   
“What the everlasting _hell_ do you think you’re doing, huh?” He shouted at Eugene, leaning over him. Rick flinched, Abraham’s towering posture and the angry outburst bringing unwanted memories back.

In a flash, Daryl was between them, wedging his shoulder in front of Rick as if knowing that having him in Rick’s line of vision would help keep the anxiety at bay. Rick breathed out a long and calming breath, his mate’s scent encompassing him like an invisible cocoon.

After Abraham was finished laying into Eugene like a bad captain he obviously deemed himself to be, Michonne spoke from Rick’s other side. He startled a bit, hearing her voice so close, but smiled when he saw that she had taken a position mirroring Daryl, even if a step further away from Rick.   
“Shouting won’t help,” she stated quietly, her right hand at the ready to reach for the sword if needed be. “We need to figure out what to _do_ now.”

“Can we filter this somehow?” Glenn piped in, waving his hand at the bottles. Daryl shrugged, looking at their resident genius, but Eugene was too scared to think properly right now. “Man, we _need_ this water,” Glenn stated seriously. Daryl was about to answer and enlighten him just how dangerous it could be to take it, when there was an excited huff of _‘oh my god!’_ coming from Carl. Daryl watched in surprise as the kid tipped his head back and closed his eyes. The hunter looked up.

_It was raining._

As if on demand, slow, fat drops started to fall all over them, splashing heavily on the black tarmac, quickly turning it into a spotty mess. He glanced at Rick, seeing him lean back, too, his overgrown curls getting wet and a look of bliss on his face.

Rick looked beautiful. Long beard and disheveled hair, eyes closed and lips parted, his dirty, brown t-shirt getting all damp and dark at the shoulders.

Daryl swallowed heavily, trying to commit the picture to his memory, saving it for later when he had some time to himself. _What he had said about no sex was still true, but so was his private statement about his right hand._

Daryl didn’t have too much time to dwell on that. He looked around, seeing everyone happy and smiling for the first time since they had found the church. Even Maggie and Sasha shared happy grins, hugging each other and delighting in the water falling down.   
“Come on! Set up the bottles!” Daryl called to them, getting his own empty ones out of his backpack and unscrewing them. He set them all on the ground to gather rainwater, ignoring Rick’s worried frown. He knew well why Rick was watching him like a hawk - he had four bottles, and by all counts, he should still have some water left in one of them. They were all dry and empty, however, and Rick didn’t need Daryl’s explanation to know where the water had gone.

_Judith’s extra bottles were still full, after all._

“Daryl.” Rick’s lips formed his name, but it was too quiet to be heard over the rustle of the falling droplets. Daryl nodded and turned to check on the others. Carl was shielding Judith from the water with his hat, Sasha and Michonne cupping their hands over the bottles, directing the flow inside. Daryl was just about to do the same, when a loud thunder crashed just over their heads. The wind picked up and they both turned in the direction the clouds had come from. The horizon was so dark, Daryl could swear it was like an early nightfall coming.

“Daryl!” This time, Rick shouted over the noise. Daryl whipped around to face him. He knew what Rick wanted to say - they needed shelter, and they needed it _now._   
“There’s a barn!” Daryl replied quickly, remembering the barn he had found earlier. They hadn’t wandered too far away from it, they could still make it before the night fell.

Gathering their stuff, they doubled back. Only half a mile, and they were stepping inside, the familiar scent of horses and cows hitting them like a long forgotten smell of home.

 

-&-

 

They had found only one lone walker in the barn, a minor inconvenience that Carol had quickly taken care of. They settled inside comfortably, Daryl immediately picking out the best spot to put Judith in. He wandered to a secure corner and took off his jacket and vest, splayed them on the ground and arranged them into a little nest. Rick smiled, seeing that. He joined Daryl and took off his own jacket, adding it to the pile of clothes. Daryl took out his blanket, too and laid it atop of the makeshift bedding, happy when the sides were high enough to stop Judith from wanting to crawl out. They put her down and she fell asleep almost immediately, the scare of thunders and cold rain falling down proving to be too tiring for her.

“Thank you,” Rick whispered softly, looking at Judith, but Daryl knew the words were directed at him.   
“What fer?” He asked, surprised.   
“Just…” Rick shook his head softly, a fond smile on his face. “Just _thank you.”_   
“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, still not knowing what it was about, but deciding to let it be. He checked up on Judith, pleased that she was resting comfortably, and wandered away, looking for a good spot to start a small fire. There wasn’t much to eat, but they had some very stale tea and lots of water, they could at least share this.

The fire started and water boiling, they gathered around to talk and relax a bit. Judith was being watched by Carl, and Rick, in turn, watched them from afar.   
“He's gonna be okay,” Carol said and Rick nodded, eyes never leaving his son. “He bounces back more than any of us do.”   
“I used to feel sorry for kids that have to grow up now,” Rick bit his lip when he paused. “In this, I mean... But I think I got it wrong.” He went on, looking back at Carol, who was looking at him with gentle eyes. “Growing up is getting used to the world. This is easier for them…”

“This isn't the world.” Michonne interrupted, voice hard. “This isn't it.”  
“It might be.”   
“That's giving up,” she accused, face getting serious. Rick shook his head.   
“It's reality… Until we see otherwise, this is what we have to live with.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Everyone was quiet, staring into the fire, lethargic and melancholic.

“When I was a kid,” Rick started quietly, aware that he would be heard regardless. “I asked my grandpa once if he ever killed any Germans in the war. He wouldn't answer. He said that was grown-up stuff, so so I asked if the Germans ever tried to kill him,” Rick chanced a glance at Michonne, but she was looking ahead, eyes unfocused. Turning to Daryl, he found the hunter’s eyes boring right into his own, gaze so intense he almost choked on his own tongue.

“But he got real quiet,” Rick went on. “He said he was dead the minute he stepped into enemy territory. Every day he woke up and told himself, ‘Rest in peace. Now get up and go to war.’” Rick paused, thinking about his grandfather, about the happy moments he had spent with him. Carl would never have that chance. God only knew where his grandparents were, or if they were still alive. Rick felt wetness gathering in his eyes and sighed, rubbing his face to get rid of it.

“And then,” he continued, “after a few years of pretending he was dead, he made it out alive. That's the trick of it, I think,” Rick said, glancing around, pleased to see that more of his family was listening intently. “We do what we need to do and then we get to live. But no matter what we find in DC, I know we'll be okay. Because this is how we survive. We tell ourselves that _we are the walking dead.”_

A sudden rustle to his left startled him, and he looked to the side, just in time to see Daryl standing up, face a mix of anger and disappointment.   
“We ain't them,” the alpha rasped out, shaking his head, feet shuffling in place as if he was debating walking away. A twig snapped under his boot and, a moment later, there was a sound of a branch breaking somewhere outside.   
“We're not them,” Rick soothed, trying to catch Daryl’s narrowed eyes. “Hey, we're not - ”  
_“We ain't them.”_ And with that, Daryl turned around and walked to the shaded part of the barn. Rick almost whined seeing this. He didn’t know what he had said that had pissed Daryl off so much… _or hurt him so much._ It just felt so _wrong_ to watch him go.

With an apologetic smile, Rick got up, too, and went after him.

“Daryl?” He asked in the dark, hoping his eyes adjusted quickly. There was a familiar grunt coming from one of the far corners of the barn, and Rick walked there, seeing a shadowy silhouette standing next to one of the columns.   
“I’m sorry,” Rick said, coming closer. He was merely a foot away from Daryl, and he could finally see his face in the near-darkness around them. “You know I didn’t mean it like that, right? We’re still alive…”   
“Yeah, I know,” Daryl’s gruffy voice was lower than usually, and Rick frowned.   
“What’s wrong?” He asked. Daryl was quiet for a long time, and when he finally spoke, Rick’s frown only deepened.

“Beth’s dead. Ty, too… We’re still alive. Can’t be dead when I…. When ya… We’re _not dead.”_ Daryl whispered. “Don’t wanna be dead when I feel _alive_ fer t’ first time in mah life, Rick,” his voice broke on Rick’s name, a small painful sound escaping his throat, and Rick couldn’t stand the distance between them anymore. He took the one step that separated them and wrapped his arms around Daryl’s waist.   
“We’re not dead,” Rick murmured against his neck, feeling Daryl shiver against him. “We’re not dead and I’ll do everything I can to keep it like that, you hear me?” Rick asked, tightening his arms briefly, before he pulled back a bit. He took Daryl’s face into his hands, a gentle cradle of careful palms that melted something inside his hunter.

Daryl leaned into him, his body becoming pliant and malleable, forehead pressing to Rick’s. Rick let him, just breathing for a moment, before he tilted his head just so and fastened their lips together. Daryl didn’t move at first, he only stood there and panted against Rick’s mouth, his hands slowly traveling to Rick’s hips. They settled there, over Rick’s gun belt, thumbs sneaking between the waistband and the t-shirt he was wearing. Daryl rubbed at the skin delicately, giving a soft groan when Rick pulled away to look at him.

And then, one of Daryl’s hands went to the back of Rick’s head, and he pressed closer, opening Rick’s mouth with his own tongue and kissing him properly. The sudden change in Daryl’s behavior startled Rick a little, and he froze for a few moments, but soon enough, he noticed that Daryl wasn’t trying to do anything else. His alpha was just kissing him like a dying man, both hands keeping Rick in place as Daryl devoured his mouth. But the heat ended there, as if Daryl had an internal division of Rick’s body, and only kissing and soft touches were allowed. Rick felt something very warm curling in his gut at that thought.

 _“I love you,”_ Rick breathed out, once they parted. Daryl heaved out a sigh that ended with a sniffle, and Rick brushed his thumb over his cheek. It came away wet, and Rick leaned in, feeling Daryl freeze in place. Carefully, Rick touched his lips just under Daryl’s eye, kissing away the tears that had fallen. He went on, until he could feel Daryl smiling, his face scrunching up happily.   
“Whatcha doin’?” He asked, voice raspy. Rick just grinned at him in the darkness, wanting to lean back in, but Daryl’s hand on his chest stopped him. The hunter inclined his head to the side, listening intently.   
“Wait…”   
“What it is?” Rick asked, frowning, turning his head to the side, too.   
“Somethin’s wrong.”

Daryl pushed him away gently and walked to the doors, looking through the tiny slit between the wings.   
“Fuck! Rick!” He shouted, before he braced both hands against the wood, keeping it closed. Rick went to him as quickly as he could, trying to assess whether the barn was sturdy enough to withstand the wind blowing right at it. When he got to Daryl and glanced outside, his blood turned cold.

_Walkers._

About two dozens of them, snarling and growling, hands reaching out to the doors.

Rick didn’t waste any time and threw his all weight against the wood, praying it would hold, looking at Daryl. The rain was falling heavily, and with the strong wind added to the mix, it was blowing right at them through every slit between the woodwork. They were both soaking wet in seconds, their feet slipping in the mud underneath them. They heard distant screams of Maggie and Carol, and Rick was glad their predicament had been noticed - it would have been a very short night otherwise.

Soon enough, their whole family gathered around them, all hands supporting the doors, feet scrambling for purchase on the wet ground. Rick looked at Daryl, and Daryl gazed right back at him, sputtering water cascading down his face. Thankfully they didn’t need words.

_I love you._

_I love you, too._


	14. One, two, three and four, the devil’s knocking at your door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morning cuddles! Also... here comes Aaron B)

Rick woke up the next morning to Judith fussing in his arms. He yawned and stretched, eyes still feeling like sandpaper, before he felt his little girl being tugged carefully away from him. Startled, he opened his eyes and blinked up at Daryl leaning over him.   
“Shh… ‘s just me. Go back to sleep,” Daryl gruffed. He walked away on silent feet, and Rick was ready to doze off again, when he felt someone lying down behind him. He half turned around, confusion showing clearly on his face, when he spotted Daryl again.   
“Jude?” Rick croaked, throat not working properly this early in the morning.   
“With Carol,” was all Daryl said. He tucked his nose into the back of Rick’s neck and exhaled, the long breath wafting over Rick’s skin and making him shiver. He groped behind him blindly, until he found Daryl’s arm and tugged it around his waist.

He was out again before he knew it.

 

-&-

 

When Rick woke up the next time, it was quiet around. He could still hear the voices of his people, but they were a bit more distant, as if they had relocated to the farther part of the barn. Rick wasn’t sure what woke him at first, but then something weird happened.

_Wet and warm._

Touching his shoulder gently, just shy of his neck.

Rick opened his eyes and stared, unseeing, at the inside of the barn. _There it was again._ Just a soft touch, a slight drag that left a cooling patch on his skin. A few seconds more, and everything registered in Rick’s brain all at once. Most of his family was huddled together in one corner of the barn - Rick could see their silhouettes from his spot. There was an arm around his waist, a _muscular arm,_ which he knew very well. Daryl was still spooned up behind him and he was softly, slowly, licking Rick’s shoulder in the place where the collar of his t-shirt must have ridden to the side in his sleep.   
“Daryl?” Rick whispered, wanting to know whether Daryl was awake or still asleep. He wasn’t sure why, but what was currently happening didn’t even feel weird. It felt… _cozy,_ for the lack of a better word.   
“Mhm?” Came a hum from behind him, a warm exhale fanning over Rick’s neck just a moment later.

Daryl licked once more, then he went still as a rock. Rick frowned. He didn’t feel threatened, he didn’t feel bad… He knew he could just move away, knew that Daryl would understand it and not make a big deal out of it, but... it actually felt _good._ The surprise of this practically made him jolt in place.   
“Shit.” Daryl huffed out and moved, making as if he tried to pull away. Rick caught the arm still resting on his waist and kept it pinned there. “R’ck?” Daryl asked, voice sounding equally sleepy and confused. He rarely sounded like this, even first thing in the morning.   
“It’s okay. Stay?” Rick asked quietly, closing his eyes and trying to commit the moment to his memory. He could almost feel Daryl’s internal struggle, before the hunter sighed and settled down again.

Daryl had never been good at this. It was too quiet, too _calm._ He was used to fights and fists, to angry punches and scraping nails, not to Rick just tugging him closer, showing him just how much he needed Daryl here. The hunter tried not to move too much, knowing just how vulnerable Rick still felt after… _what had happened._ He didn’t want to startle Rick, he didn’t want to bring back any bad memories, and snuggling up to him when he was still asleep was bound to get some of that shit back.

Surprisingly, though, Rick only grabbed his arm, making sure Daryl didn’t move away. His fingers traveled along Daryl’s skin, going higher first, before they skimmed down, until Rick could wrap his hand around Daryl’s. His fingers were warm, a small rubbing motion to them that put Daryl’s mind at ease, and he let himself close his eyes, enjoying the easy caress. He would have drifted off to sleep again, if it hadn’t been for Rick’s thumb finding a puffy, tender patch just in the hollow between his own thumb and pointer.

Daryl felt the deep breath Rick took - it practically shook his whole frame.   
“Why?” Rick asked on an exhale, a lot quieter than he had any right to with that amount of air trapped inside him.   
“Don’t.” Daryl tried to tug his arm free, but Rick clung to it, fingers clenching around Daryl’s wrist almost too tightly. _“Rick.”_   
“It’s okay… I just want to know why?” Rick murmured, loosening his hold when Daryl stopped struggling. That was Rick’s thing - he didn’t judge. He might be angry or sad, furious or grieving, hell - he could be wandering the crazy town, but he never judged. He just asked questions and tried to figure it out, find a solution.   
“Needed ta… Needed ta feel somethin’,” Daryl said, shrugging. He bit his lip, waiting for some kind of a reaction from Rick.

Daryl knew that Rick didn’t like the idea of him hurting himself. He always looked out for all of them, but his closes family most of all, Daryl included. _There were too many things waiting to kill them out there, they didn’t have to try and achieve it on their own…_ That’s how Rick had once put it, all the way back in the prison. Daryl had known this on some level when he had pressed that cigarette to his hand back there, on the road. Now, waiting for Rick’s answer - whatever it might be - was wearing his nerves raw.   
  
“Come to me,” Rick whispered finally, tugging Daryl’s hand up, toward his lips. He placed a small kiss over the burnmark. It felt weird - Daryl didn’t expect to feel _anything_ in the first place, certainly not the little sparkle that lit up his nerves all the way up his arm. “Next time you need to feel something? Come to me.”   
“What if ya… can’t?” Daryl asked tentatively. He wasn’t sure what he needed, pain or pleasure, familiarity or chaos… If it was all murky even for Daryl, then how could he expect Rick to have the answer?   
“We’ll figure something out. You don’t have to hurt yourself.” He went on, and Daryl nodded, stunned into silence. He wanted to ask, _to argue -_ ‘what difference did it make?’

“Ya were ready to hurt yerself,” Daryl reminded him quietly. He felt Rick tense in his embrace, before he relaxed with a visible effort.   
“I was. I’m sorry.”   
“I get it. ‘m happy it didn’t come ta that.” Daryl tightened his arm briefly, before he let it go slack once again. This one-handed hug was something the alpha inside him needed, something that put his mind at ease about the state of his mate, _his omega._ As if the physical touch was necessary to remind him that Rick was still there with him.   
“I was close once, you know?” Rick whispered hesitatingly. “In the church. Not with the spikes, I really wasn’t thinking about it then. Earlier. Michonne had her knife in hand, was sharpening it. I almost asked her to give it to me…” Rick trailed off, and Daryl had to bite back the sound that tried to claw its way out of his throat. “I guess we would really need that hospital then, huh?”

“If I knew there was a hospital,” Daryl started, but Rick shut him up quickly.   
“You what?” He asked, voice serious. “You would have waited to make peace with them?”

It was a good question. Daryl considered it for a moment, before he shook his head forcefully.   
“No.” He stated, the one word carrying all the emotions that he couldn’t really express. “I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t let ‘em touch you,” he mumbled, pressing his face to Rick’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t trust them,” he realized only now just how true it was. He wouldn’t let them put Rick on a slab and gut him open like a fucking fish. Even if it had been Hershel, Daryl would still be hovering somewhere in the room, watching every second of the procedure like a hawk. Like this? With those people he wouldn’t trust for shit? It wouldn’t have happened.

“Dad?” Carl’s voice startled the both of them. They looked up, spotting Carl standing just a foot away from them.   
“Yeah?” Rick asked back, clearing his throat.   
“Maggie and Sasha aren’t here,” Carl said with a frown. “I thought they went to check the perimeter, but it’s been a long time…”   
“They went fer a walk,” Daryl supplied, sitting up. Rick did the same, yawning until his jaw hurt. He couldn’t remember the last time when he had slept so late… Then again, they had been up most of the night, fighting off walkers.

“When was it?” Carl asked, his face serious. Rick felt something tug at his heart when he realized just what a fine alpha he was growing up to be. He cared about his family so much... and not only about the closer ones, but about their whole group.   
“In the mornin’,” Daryl gruffed out. “I repaired that music box ya had found. They took it an’ went fer some fresh air.” Carl nodded, hearing that. He made as if he wanted to walk away, but paused mid-step, turning back to Rick and Daryl.   
“Are you… like…” he trailed off, looking as if he wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. Rick nodded.   
“Together? Yeah, I guess we are,” he said, glancing at Daryl. The alpha was looking at his hands, one thumb rubbing over the burnmark.   
“Cool.” Carl stated, walking away finally. Rick snorted, hearing this. He twisted around to look at Daryl properly.

“Sorry,” Rick started, “I didn’t know if you…”  
“I do.” Daryl gruffed out, gazing at Rick. The heat in his stare mirrored the warmth in Rick’s own chest. “Come on,” Daryl went on, standing up, holding out a hand for Rick. “Should move, ‘nuff sittin’ ‘round.”

 

-&-

 

“Everyone, this is Aaron.”

_It all went downhill from there._

The strange alpha had been walked inside and presented to their whole group. Rick didn’t like him from the start.

Clean clothes. Trimmed hair. A full backpack belonging to someone who was way too well-fed to be surviving the living hell of the apocalypse around them. Hollowed cheeks and dirty skin - that’s what they were used to, vacant stares and grinding teeth like badges of honor for surviving the end of the world… And here was Aaron, looking so goddamn _groomed_ that Rick didn’t know what to do with him.

_We met him outside. He's by himself. We took his weapons and we took his gear._

And he was talking. _Constantly._ He was like a little chatterbox, never shutting the hell up, not even when Rick and Daryl - and their whole family - were side-eyeing him. A strange, soft-spoken _alpha,_ droning on about walls, community, pictures and _old cameras._ As if any of those things still mattered, as if anyone still _cared._ The last community they encountered had tried to eat them, the one before that had hurt Rick so deeply he was still afraid to get within ten feet of any stranger. No matter how much the alpha smiled, trying to put them all at ease, it only served to make Rick more furious, more distrusting.

Nobody even flinched when Rick punched him hard enough to lay him flat on the ground.

Later, it turned out that Aaron wasn’t alone. He had a someone - _or a few someones_ \- hiding somewhere in the woods. Hearing this, Rick almost went and punched him again. It’s a good thing Daryl stopped him, because it wouldn’t have ended with one hit this time.

Rick didn’t want to go. Whatever the alpha proposed, whatever it was he had in mind, Rick couldn’t just trust him right off the bat. It was too dangerous, and Aaron was _too clean._ Rick knew it would only mean trouble for them. They would be fine going to Washington, going _anywhere_ really, as long as it didn’t mean being stuck in another train car or, _god forbid,_ meeting another group like the Claimers…

“Whaddaya think?” Daryl’s gruff voice startled him. Rick shrugged, eyes still focused on the forest in front of him. He wanted to pack up and leave, to protect their group by leaving this stranger here and moving on… but he knew they were too weak for this. The drought had sucked the life out of them. They were beaten up, hungry and thirsty, slowly losing hope - even if nobody was saying any of those things aloud.   
“I don’t know,” Rick said, sighing. He ruffled one hand through his hair, closing his eyes for a moment. “Feels strange. I don’t know if we can trust him or not…”   
“We probably can’t.” Daryl walked closer to him, standing in some imagined line with Rick. Daryl always did that. When shit was coming down, Daryl was always right beside him, fighting in the first line, keeping tabs on Rick and their people alike.

Like his own guardian angel at the end of the world.

“I should talk with Carl,” Rick murmured, changing the topic. He didn’t really want to have that talk, but he had a feeling there were questions to be answered and he’d rather they didn’t go without being addressed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Daryl nod.   
“Ya want me there?” He asked quietly, a strange quality to his voice that told Rick to turn and look at him. Daryl’s shoulders were tense and his whole posture screamed ‘uncomfortable’, but he stood his ground, studiously staring into the woods.

Rick knew that Daryl didn’t really want to be a part of that. He also knew well that Daryl would be there if he said ‘yes’.   
“No,” Rick shook his head slowly. “I think I’ll manage that one…”

“So, what’s the decision?” Maggie’s voice made them both turn around. She was standing just outside the barn, one hand adjusting the strap of her machine gun. Rick shrugged.   
“What do you think?” He asked her, watching her with his brows raised.   
“I think we should go,” Maggie stated, walking closer to them. “If things go wrong, we can take care of ourselves…”   
“That’s what Michonne said,” Rick chuckled, but there was no mirth in that sound. He heard Daryl shuffling next to him.

“Okay,” Rick took a deep breath. “We head out after sunset,” he commanded, glancing at Daryl. He got a small nod in return, a sign of approval. He nodded back and they all wandered inside.

 

-&-

 

“Carl,” Rick started, stepping closer to his son. Carl was sitting next to one of the walls, his hands busy playing with Judith. He looked up sharply when Rick approached him, eyes squinting a bit, just like Daryl’s did.   
“‘sup?” He asked, and Rick smiled. _Just like Daryl._   
“I was thinking… about this morning,” he started, easing himself down and sitting with his back to the wall. “Thought you may wanna talk about this,” Rick waved his hand around unnecessarily. Daryl wasn’t there with him, too busy preparing his crossbow for tonight’s head-out.

Carl glanced at him for a moment, before he turned his attention back to Judy.   
“I don’t really wanna talk, dad,” he muttered. “I mean, I get it. And it’s fine,” he supplied and Rick frowned. _That was weird._   
“Is it?” He prodded curiously, his gaze traveling to Judith. She was trying to grab Carl’s hand and take her plushie dinosaur from him. Carl shrugged.   
“After… after what happened… you know, on the road…” Carl sighed, giving up the dinosaur finally. He turned his head to Rick. “After that, I was worried about you. We all were. But Daryl… He was there, and he took care of you. I think I sorta knew it then,” he shrugged again. “And then, in the church… and after. You were always very close.”   
“Yeah,” Rick breathed out, swallowing heavily. “And you’re _fine_ with it?”   
“He’s good for you. Besides, he’s family, dad. It’s cool.”

Carl finished with a small smile directed at him, and Rick couldn’t really help himself. He leaned forward and opened his arms in invitation.   
“Come here,” he prompted. Carl rolled his eyes, but still shuffled closer and hugged his dad. “I love you, Carl,” Rick whispered, pressing a kiss to his head, before he let Carl pull away.

“So… we’re going with Aaron, right?”   
“Looks like it,” Rick confirmed. “If anything bad happens - ”   
“Dad - ”   
_“If anything bad happens,_ I want you to take care of Judith, alright?” Rick said seriously, leveling his gaze with Carl’s. “Get to Daryl if you can, if not, try to lay low and get away from trouble.”   
“Alright,” Carl nodded, face serious. “But, you know that we’ll be fine, right?”   
“I hope so, son. I hope so.”

 

-&-

 

Aaron turned out to be a fierce alpha… fiercely protective of his mate, as it was.

When the shit had gone down, his top priority had been Eric, an omega they had learned about only after coming back together.

The evening had gotten all fucked up partly thanks to Rick’s stubbornness at taking another route, and partly because of their streak of bad luck. Thankfully, they had all managed to make it out alive and relatively unscathed, a few bruises notwithstanding. They had lost one car - something that would be easily remedied in the morning. What counted the most was that they were reconnected once again, locked up in a safe building, with enough supplies to spend the rest of the night in peace.

“What’s wrong?” Daryl asked, and Rick realized he’d been standing motionless in the middle of the room, staring at the wall opposite of him. He sighed and rubbed a hand across his face, before he walked closer to where Daryl had set up his nest of blankets for the night.

Rick had just witnessed Aaron cuddling up with Eric, after he had explicitly told Rick that the only way of keeping them separate was killing him. The simple statement, filled with emotions and protectiveness, was enough to shift something inside Rick. It threw his brain into a loop, thoughts of the same situation in reverse playing out over and over in his mind. _What would Daryl do?_

_What would he do?_

“Hey,” Daryl started, but Rick shook his head and looked down at him, sitting among the blankets, a corner of the top one drawn back invitingly. He wanted that - he wanted to have that kind of relationship with Daryl. He wanted everything it entailed - not only those little possessive moments, not only the protectiveness of it. He craved the closeness, he needed to cuddle up with Daryl and forget about the nightmare of a reality they were living in.

Deciding that this was the first day of the rest of their lives, Rick took off his jacket and crawled under the blanket, pressing against Daryl’s side, pillowing his head on the hunter’s shoulder. Daryl hummed, one arm sneaking around Rick’s back, wrapping itself around his chest until he could keep Rick tucked securely to his own body.   
“Stop thinkin’,” Daryl muttered and Rick smiled.

_As if it was that easy._

But, a few minutes later, when he threw his arm across Daryl’s chest, and Daryl’s fingers circled around his wrist, Rick thought he could actually manage that. He was drifting off before he had a chance to notice when it happened.

 

-&-

 

They hotwired a car parked just outside the building they had spent the night in. Dividing themselves between the vehicles, they decided to go for maximum security in case the things went south again. Rick took the first one, Michonne and Judith coming with him. Daryl went in the second one, Carl riding shotgun, Sasha, Gabriel and Tara in the back. The third car was taken by Abe and Rosita, with Glenn, Maggie and Eugene in the backseat - the action team, if anything didn’t go according to the plan. Aaron and Eric went in a separate car, leading them all from their last position in the column, Carol and Noah keeping them company. Rick felt safer that way, knowing that if the shit hit the fan, Carol and Noah could assassinate those two without any troubles.

Somewhere on the road, two of their vehicles ran out of fuel, so they grabbed the first opportunity and changed them for an RV they found near one of the abandoned houses. They stopped there for a quick breakfast, too. It mostly consisted of watered down instant coffee and a few stale crackers, but it was enough to keep them going.

“How are you feeling?” Michonne asked, as soon as they were done eating and crawled back into the vehicles. Rick shrugged, glancing into the rearview, waiting for everyone to get back inside the cars, before he started his own and rolled it out on the road again.   
“I’m fine,” he muttered, then sighed. This was Michonne, and Michonne knew about the whole business. “I’m… better,” he corrected, risking a glance at her. She nodded, her face the picture of compassion.   
“I was worried about you… we all were,” she said quietly, turning her eyes back to the road. Rick did the same, frowning.

The way Michonne said it, the careful lack of emphasis on ‘we’ - it told Rick just how everyone was involved in the situation. Michonne must have been acting as a proxy between them and Rick, keeping their group at bay, answering the questions they might have had and giving Rick the space he needed so much. She didn’t have to do it, either, she had already gone out of her way to help them find the pills… even if that hadn’t worked out.   
“Thank you,” Rick gruffed out through his tightening throat.   
“For what?” Michonne asked seriously. “We’re all family, Rick. We worry about you.”  
“No,” he shook his head quickly. He left one hand on the wheel and brought the other one to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s not only worrying… you… you took care of them, didn’t you? You and Daryl?” Rick asked, focusing on the road again, both hands on the wheel.   
“It wasn’t only us.” Michonne stated next to him, voice low. “We all knew you needed that break. It’s okay to let it go for a bit, you know?”

Rick could only nod at this. He looked down at his hands, raising one up. It shook slightly, a certain kind of tremor that seemed to have settled there permanently and liked to come out when he was feeling a bit too vulnerable.   
“What do you think about Alexandria?” Michonne asked tentatively. _“Really_ think?”   
“Honestly?” Rick scoffed. “I think we’re making a huge mistake.”   
“Why?”   
“What if it’s like the Terminus?” Rick mused, grinding his teeth together.

There was a lone walker on the road in front of them. He felt a certain kind of ease when he clipped it with one of the side mirrors.

“What if it’s like the farm?” Michonne asked back, and Rick sighed. He had told Michonne about the farm, back during their happy days at the prison. “Rick… we can handle ourselves. If this goes wrong… if anything goes wrong… we can make it out alive,” she said with so much conviction, Rick found himself nodding along.   
“What if we can’t? What if we have to pay a price for this?” He asked, throat tightening again.   
“Isn’t it worth a try?”

Maybe it was. _Maybe,_ like with Daryl and him, it was worth to _try_ at least. Michonne was right, they needed this, they needed to have that chance… But it hurt so much to think about failing. He _had_ failed as a leader, many times before. He didn’t want to, again. Whether it was the irrational fear paralyzing him, or the amount of possible scenarios that told him just how wrong it could all go in a blink of an eye, he found himself incapable of making that one decision. He wouldn’t have said yes if it hadn’t been for all of their support. After all, the whole group had contributed to this decision.

“I’m afraid,” Rick admitted quietly, fingers clenching around the steering wheel a bit too hard. “I’m a coward,” he laughed mirthlessly, shaking his head a little. Michonne was silent for a moment, before she spoke finally, a determined edge to her otherwise calm voice.   
“What you did with Daryl was no cowardice, Rick. Not everyone could do it. Not everyone would. People tend to choose the easy way out…”  
“It _was_ the easy way,” he protested. _What did she know anyway? It wasn’t like she was afraid of giving birth. Not even close. They had talked, back in the prison. She had had a kid once. Losing it must have hurt more than Rick’s imagined problems._

“No.” She said, shaking her head, which Rick could see from the corner of his eye. “The easy way out would be a knife. Or an overdose of whatever we found,” Michonne stated, still staring at the road. Rick risked a glance at her, taking in the serious expression on her face, complete with a small furrow of her brow. “You didn’t. You chose to go on and beat this the other way. And that required a lot of courage,” she looked at him, just a quick meeting of their eyes, before she looked forward again. Rick did the same, happy that he could use the excuse of driving for it.

“It wasn’t courage that pushed me into it, though,” Rick muttered.   
“Cowards end up bleeding out on the floor, Rick. You survived. That’s what matters.”

They fell silent after that, Rick thinking about what Michonne had said, her focusing on the road. It was a good setting, too, for she had to poke him sharply in the ribs one or two times, when he overlooked a walker ambling around on the highway.

Time went on, and with it the miles, and soon, they were drawing up in front of a huge metal wall - _Alexandria._ Rick drove as close as he dared, looking ahead, trying not to grip the wheel too hard in his attempt at stopping his hands from shaking. Michonne was silent next to him, looking around in search of danger. That was when he heard it.

Laughter.

Kids, _people,_ walking behind those metal sheets, talking and laughing, shouting something to each other.

Blinking furiously, Rick glanced at Michonne, just for a moment, just to convince himself that it was real. She met his gaze with a smile and reached out to squeeze his hand.   
“You ready?” Just this, no preamble. A simple statement that was a loaded question all at once. Rick gave a curt nod, finally prying his hands off the steering wheel.   
“Yeah…” he glanced at them, flexing his fingers when they shook a bit too much. “Yeah.”

_If only his stomach hadn’t started to hurt again..._

They both got out of the car, Rick wincing slightly and gritting his teeth to soldier on somehow. By the time he pulled Judith into his arms and turned around, their family was gathered in front of their car, like their own personal guard, Daryl leading the way. Rick looked at Judy one more time, before he joined them, too, standing at the gates of their new home.


	15. That’s me in the corner, that’s me in the spotlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Alexandria! :)

“You mind if I film this?”

Deanna was a very stubborn, very intimidating woman. If women could be alphas, Rick would have been looking at a very fine specimen indeed. She was running this place with an iron fist and she didn’t back down from something she decided. Rick knew it could only go two ways - after all, one of the people who got what they wanted every time were the stubborn ones. 

The other were idiots, not knowing when to stop trying. 

And she asked a lot of questions…   
“What?” _Film this?_ Rick felt lost.   
“Do you mind if I film our talk?” _Ah._ She waited patiently for his answer, sitting on her pristine couch, in her immaculate living room. _Rick wanted to punch something._   
“Go ahead.” He shrugged, walking up to the window, peering through it. 

They had seen quite a bit of Alexandria already, just on their short walk here. Maybe it hadn’t been the nicest sightseeing tour, but it was good enough for defensive purposes. 

Those people were  _ idiots. _

“Why film this?” Rick asked, raising both eyebrows. He had forgotten, in their time at the end of the world, that something like technology had even existed once. The camera beeped and Deanna smiled at him.    
“We're about transparency here,” she explained, waving at the armchair standing in front of her. “Please,” she prompted and Rick sat down, frowning when his ass encountered soft, plushy cushion, instead of the hard, beaten road they were all used to. 

“How long have you been out there?” Deanna started and Rick shrugged again. Easy enough.    
“Since the beginning,” he answered, his mind going to those first days briefly, images of the hospital and Atlanta popping up in his mind.    
“How did you all find each other? Did you know each other before or...?”    
“We didn't know each other before,” Rick shook his head slightly, thinking about how Glenn had gotten him out of that tank. 

About how Morgan had saved his ass earlier. 

“I was a congressperson,” Deanna went on, probably to get some of his attention, maybe gain a bit of his trust. Rick doubted she could. Not so soon, anyway. “Ohio, 15th district. You?” She asked suddenly. Rick winced, looking down at his hands. _Who was he? A father of two, an almost-father of three. A man who had been assaulted and survived to keep his family safe. Who had killed and would kill again, if it could help keep his family safe._   
“I don't think it matters anymore,” Rick mumbled, throat tightening. He thought of Shane, of their happy days, of their bad days. Of the way the knife had slid between his ribs and right into his heart on that cold night on the farm. 

“Oh, I know it does.” She smiled slightly saying this, as if she knew something Rick didn’t. Rick hated it. He looked around, taking in the clean, blood-free walls and the soft carpet.    
“What is this place?”    
“This is the start of sustainability,” she answered, as if the word held some hidden meaning, the proportions of which no human mind could comprehend. Rick had to fight the urge to snort. 

The refugee centers had fallen,  _ hell, _ the  _ CDC _ had fallen, and yet here they were, with their solar panels and clear wells, going on as if the apocalypse hadn’t happened at all.    
“That's what the brochures we found say,” Deanna wasn’t deterred by his lack of response. “This was a planned community with its own solar grid, cisterns, eco-based sewage filtration. Starting in the low 800,000s,” she barked out a laugh here, pausing for a moment. “If there is such a thing. And they sold them all.”   
“How did you end up here?” Rick was curious. Was this a cozy setup, or had those people had to fight for what they had now?     
“Well, my family and I were trying to get back to Ohio so I could help my district manage the crisis. And the army stopped us on a back road and directed us here. They were supposed to come later…” she sighed, looking down. “They didn't. But, there were supplies here and we made the best of it.”

Rick’s eyebrows creased. _A cozy setup, then._   
“You put up the wall?”   
“Well, there was this huge shopping mall being built nearby,” Deanna started, eyes getting a bit sparkly. “And my husband Reg is a professor of architecture… and who he was mattered quite a bit. He got the first plates up with our sons,” she said proudly, and Rick found himself nodding along. _The lack of proper walls had been one of the weak points of the prison. Chainlink is not nearly as durable as metal sheets..._

“And after a few weeks, more people arrived and we had help. We had a community,”  Deanna finished, looking at him like the next world’s president. Rick thought about punching something again.    
“You've been behind these walls this entire time?” He asked in disbelief, shaking his head a little.    
“We need people who have lived out there. Your group is the first we've even considered taking in for a long time,” she stated seriously, as if she tried to underline just how important this moment was. Rick looked at his feet. 

“You should keep your gates closed,” he muttered, looking down. There was a tremor starting in his hands again, and he laced them together, wringing his fingers tightly.    
“Why?” She asked, as if it was a challenge. As if she had already decided that she wanted them here, and this whole talk was just a charade. Rick hesitated.    
“Because it's all about survival now,” he said, voice low. “At any cost. People out there are always looking for an angle…” 

_ The Governor.  _

“Looking to play on your weakness.” 

_ The Claimers.  _

“They measure you by what they can take from you.”

_ The Terminus. _

“By how they can use you to live,” he shook his head.  “So bringing people into a place like this now - ”    
“Are you telling me not to bring your people in?” She interrupted, and Rick’s eyes snapped back to her. He clasped his hands tightly together, biting the inside of his cheek.  _ Did he screw up already? _ He knew well what this chance meant for his group, for his  _ family. _ Not knowing what to say to get this back on the right tracks, Rick waited, watching Deanna closely. She looked like someone who knew something he didn’t. 

“Or are you already looking after this place?” She asked after a beat, her words loaded with something Rick couldn’t really interpret. “Aaron says I can trust you.”   
“Aaron doesn't know me,” he mumbled. “I've killed people. I don't even know how many by now,” he admitted quietly, looking away. His stomach started to hurt again, phantom pain that chased him with anxious waves wherever he went. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He needed to make some things clear. 

“But I know why they're all dead. They're dead so my family,  _ all those people out there, _ can be alive,” he clarified. “So I could be alive for them.” He finished, still not looking at her. Deanna was silent for a few seconds.    
“Sounds like I'd want to be part of your family.”

Rick stared at her, dumbstruck.  _ That _ was definitely not something he expected to hear. 

“Rick, northern Virginia was effectively evacuated. Millions of people gone. For a long time, there's hardly been anyone here, living or dead, but still we have lost people,” she explained with a sad expression on her face. Rick nodded, he knew how that felt. “And I've done things.”   
“What have  _ you  _ done?”    
“I exiled three men who didn't work out.” 

Rick almost wanted to laugh at that.  _ Three men. Good god.  _ If she only knew what Rick had done in the past  _ month _ alone, she would be running for her guards to escort him out. 

“And we both know that's as good as killing them…” 

Rick stopped listening after that. He nodded in the right places, trying to appear as if he was still paying attention to what she was saying. Those people were  _ weak, _ and what they wanted were bodyguards. 

In the end, Rick agreed to her terms, green-lighting her request of bringing the others in for interviews. He just wanted  _ out. _

 

-&-

 

Upon walking out of Deanna’s house, sending in Glenn and Maggie, the first thing Rick sought, was Daryl.

He found the hunter sitting on the side of the road, just outside the building. Nobody commented when Rick went to him, sat right next to Daryl and pressed himself against the alpha’s side. He took a deep breath and let the comforting scent of  _ family _ wash over him, as Daryl threw one arm around his shoulders to keep him close.    
“Ya alright?” He asked quietly, and Rick nodded.    
“Yeah,” he confirmed, chuckling. “These people are idiots,” he muttered, watching as Carl walked up to them and installed himself on Rick’s other side.    
“Good thing we’re ‘ere, then,” Daryl gruffed out, letting his hand slide down to Rick’s hip. 

Rick didn’t mind. He knew Daryl didn’t like public displays, even if they were surrounded by their people. Besides, he could feel the tension in the hunter’s body, the quiet alertness of it telling him just how ready to act Daryl was if anything went wrong. Rick closed his eyes and snuggled closer, his own hand finding Carl’s blindly and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

 

-&-

 

They were given two houses.  _ Two houses that looked more like mansions. _

Rick didn’t protest when everyone pushed him to take the first shower, telling him it was only fair that he got the first taste of hot water. He almost told Carl to take it, but his son rolled his eyes and gave him a pointed look before he had even managed to open his mouth, so Rick shrugged and went to the bathroom. He heard the others making plans at checking out their neighborhood, before the door clicked shut behind him.

He had actually forgotten what a luxury hot water was. It felt so wonderful, he spent good ten minutes just standing there, soaking it up, relishing in the sensation of warmth trickling down his back, relaxing his muscles and washing off the grime and dust that he had collected on their road here.  Hell, there was probably still some blood on him, either his or other people’s, caked and smeared, hiding in the creases of his skin like a lingering nightmare.

Rick scrubbed himself clean, not even pausing to sniff the soap he had found on one of the shelves. He didn’t care about the smell - all he suddenly cared about was to get the road off of him. If something didn’t work out with this place, they could at least have that little luxury, a moment of forgotten bliss and clean sheets to sleep on. 

Stepping out of the shower, Rick wrapped a towel around his hips and slowly made his way to the mirror. It was all fogged up, and he hesitated, before he rubbed a clean spot and peered at his own reflection. What he saw, almost made him back away.

His eyes,  somehow still blue even despite all the red they’d seen, looked wary and almost dull. His stare had an edge to it that put even his own nerves on high alert.  He thought back to Daryl, to how the hunter,  _ his hunter, _ usually had a semi-permanent squint to his own beautiful, stormy eyes. Rick’s own look was ten times more horrifying right now. He looked almost…  _ feral, _ for the lack of a better word. 

And the beard didn’t help in the least. It covered the bottom half of his face, making him seem unapproachable and dangerous, and while Rick didn’t think that being considered dangerous was something bad these days, he knew they all had to try and fit in. This town was their chance, and they had to do whatever they could not to lose it. Looking like this? A group of vagabonds more menacing than death itself? Being lead by this terrifying mountain man?

_ Rick barely recognized himself, blinking at the mirror. _

Long beard, even longer hair, almost touching his shoulders by now, curling against his neck like an unruly waterfall… Sighing, Rick reached into a small cabinet under the sink. He hoped for a straight razor or an electric shaver, but only found two disposable razors and a pair of scissors. Grabbing the soap again, Rick set to the task of trimming the beard at first, before he shaved it off completely. 

It felt weird to touch his hairless skin just after, his jaw suddenly feeling soft and tender, still bruised in one spot. Frowning, Rick dragged the razor over his skin one last time, craning his neck to the side to check for any missed spots,  vaguely wondering what Daryl would say about his new-old look, when there was a knock on the door. He went to answer it, tugging on his old, dirty clothes to do so.

 

-&-

 

Her name was Jessie and she was their neighbor - and, apparently, the one person who wasn’t deterred by their feral looks. She gifted Rick with a basket full of food and supplies and offered her help in cutting his hair.  He agreed, mostly to keep up the appearances, glad when she proposed to just shorten it a bit. 

_ He regretted his decision halfway-through. _

She was too damn observant and too fucking on-point in everything she said. He felt tears prickling at his eyes when her small talk steered his thoughts back to Lori. That topic still hurt, it would hurt no matter how much time passed, and Rick was glad to avoid it like the plague. He had buried it deep, had refused to look at it, and was completely unprepared when she coaxed it into the daylight. 

Thankfully, Jessie understood that he wasn’t really keen on talking, and cut her visit short, leaving Rick with less curls, but looking tidier than he had just an hour before. 

Knowing he had some time before his family came back - he could hear them talking just outside their brand new houses - Rick wandered into one of the bedrooms in search for some clean clothes. 

 

-&-

 

Daryl hadn’t been very keen on leaving Rick alone in the shower, but he stomped down his protective instincts and told himself that his mate would be _ just fine. _ They weren’t going far, just around the corner, just to check if the place was secure enough to spend the night in. Only after forcing himself to actually move, along with Michonne’s gentle prodding that they should check the walls around the place, did Daryl finally get up and walked out of the house. 

He was back now, Glenn and Maggie behind him, Michonne and Carol on their heels. Daryl had sent the rest to look around a bit more, to make sure everything was fine. Abe didn’t even comment on that, accepting the request - the  _ command, _ really - with a solemn nod. He took Rosita and Carl to check the perimeter, leaving Judy with Gabriel and Sasha on the porch. Eugene excused himself and disappeared behind the house, mumbling something about wires and solar panels. Daryl rolled his eyes and walked inside, directing his steps to the bathroom first. 

He found it empty, small traces of Rick’s scent lingering in the air, mixed with the heavy tang of soap. Daryl scrunched his nose and walked out, trying to figure out where Rick was. A soft, barely-there noise caught his attention and he turned towards the corridor, eyes zeroing on the bedroom door at the very end. 

Stepping cautiously, slowly, Daryl made his way over there, hesitating, before he reached for the knob and tried it. The door was unlocked, so he opened is quietly, his breath catching in his throat when his eyes landed on the bed. 

Rick was lying on the bed, eyes closed, arms splayed loosely on his sides, a pair of clean-looking boxers wrapped around his jutting hip bones. The image was so out of norm, so  _ striking, _ it took Daryl a whole minute of staring to notice that Rick had shaved and that the skin of his cheeks was now smooth and hairless. 

He felt a strange tugging somewhere deep inside his gut seeing Rick’s bare face, but he didn’t let it distract him. He cleared his throat quietly, almost wincing when Rick’s head shot up in surprise.    
“Hey,” Daryl said automatically, stepping into the room - the room that was already smelling like Rick.    
“Hey, I…” Rick sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress, one hand threading through his hair. 

_ His curls were shortened, too,  _ Daryl observed, gritting his teeth. 

“I came here looking for clean clothes, sat down for a moment, must have started dozing off…” Rick explained, glancing at him, and Daryl shook his head. It was almost as if Rick felt bad for his body’s need to sleep and was trying to  _ apologize. _

_ Ridiculous. _

If there was someone who should be apologizing, it should be Daryl - the heat of arousal blooming in his abdomen, which had started as soon as he had caught a glimpse of Rick’s almost-naked body, had been enough to apologize for. Daryl knew with all his being that Rick was nowhere near healed enough to accept his sexual attraction, he knew that Rick still had a hard time sometimes to accept any physical intimacy between them, so he scolded himself mentally.

“‘s okay,” Daryl muttered, finally moving from his spot. He closed the door behind him and walked to the bed, sitting on the edge gingerly, trying not to let it get to him just how quickly Rick turned around and started to tug on a plain, white t-shirt. “Carol’s gonna start making a dinner, so ya could prolly sleep some more, ya know,” Daryl mumbled, pointedly averting his gaze when Rick stood up to put a clean pair of jeans, dark and skinny, just like Rick’s old ones had been. Daryl caught glimpses of them with the corners of his eyes, before Rick sat back down on the bed. 

“I think we should put someone on watch for the night,” Rick said, leaning forward and propping his elbows on his knees. Daryl nodded.    
“Yeah, Maggie and Glenn offered to take the first watch, Carol was thinking about the next. I can go for the third one,” Daryl side-eyed him, waiting for Rick’s answer. Rick shrugged.    
“I could take one, too,” he said, but it sounded like a question. Daryl bit his lip not to let his concerns slip.  _ Rick was still healing up. He still wasn’t 100% okay. He should be resting and getting his strength back.  _

“Nah,” Daryl said instead, “ya can take ‘t tomorrow, if ya want.”    
“Alright,” Rick shrugged with a sigh.  He knew why Daryl was mothering him. “I’m better, you know?” Rick admitted quietly, trying not to sigh in defeat.    
“I know. Doesn’t mean ya should push on when we there’s people ta help,” Daryl explained, rubbing his face with his palms.  Without all the dirt and blood covering Rick, his scent was getting back to his usual omega quality, sweet and a bit spicy, flowing around Daryl and beckoning him closer.

“I’ll have to pick up the slack eventually.” Rick cleared his throat, staring at his bare feet, digging his toes into the plush carpet under them. Daryl nodded and got up, leaving Rick on the edge of the mattress.    
“Gonna go, check if everyone’s alright,” the alpha gruffed and walked out. Rick allowed himself to take a few deep breaths, before he got up, too, and headed downstairs. 

 

-&-

 

By the time Rick grabbed Judith and wandered out on the porch, Daryl and Carol were already there. The hunter was busy gutting an opossum he had killed earlier, and Rick smiled seeing this. There was something achingly familiar in the way Daryl’s fingers glinted with red, in the way he dug his knife into the flesh, just to spray more blood around when he dragged it out. 

Daryl still hadn’t showered - something that didn’t escape Rick’s attention. But, just like with the dead opossum he was busy slaughtering at the front of their house, Rick didn’t give a fuck. The blood of the dead animal looked almost like territorial markings, and Daryl’s scent was as comforting as ever, even if it wasn’t the freshest it could get.

“Can I go check out the other house?” Carl’s voice behind him prompted Rick to turn around. He hesitated before answering, something Carol must have caught on, because she interrupted him.    
“I’ll go with him, see if there’s anything useful in there,” she said with a motherly smile directed at Rick, and he nodded, thankful for her idea. He knew that Carl could probably handle himself alone, but he was still calmer when he knew that someone was watching his kid’s back. 

 

-&-

 

Later, they all gathered together in the living room, settling in for the night.  It was quiet outside once again, but it wasn’t the dead stillness of a walker-infested forest they had grown so accustomed to. 

“How long was I in there for?” Michonne asked, emerging from one of the bathrooms, toothbrush in hand. Rick smiled.    
“Twenty minutes.”   
“God, I could not stop brushing,” she said, grinning, showing off her pearly-white teeth. Then, her grin slowly gave way to a gentle smile, eyes sparkling when she took him in, and Rick realized that she had been the last to see him after his shower earlier.    
“I've never... I've never seen your face like that.” She motioned at his head in general, and it was Rick’s time to smile.    
“That's what I felt before  _ and  _ after,” he joked, hoisting Judith a bit higher in his arms. Michonne looked around, taking in their family getting comfortable for the night. 

“Look, I get why we're playing it safe. We should,” she stated seriously. “I just... I have a good feeling about this place.”   
“Well, I hope you're right,” Rick turned around and walked to Judith’s crib. They had set it up under the window, in the living room just like all of them. She was going to sleep with Daryl keeping watch over her and with Carl sleeping on a pile of blankets right next to her.  _ Like always. _

“You should get some rest before that watch,” Rick said casually to Daryl, bending over the crib and putting Judith inside. She smiled up at him and he could feel an answering grin stretching his own lips. There was a snort coming from the hunter, and Rick turned to see him watching Judith intently.    
“Not tired,” Dryl huffed out, bringing his hand to his mouth and biting into his thumbnail. 

Rick wanted to say something else, perhaps to tell Daryl that he knew, but was still worried about him… He didn’t get a chance. The second he opened his mouth, there was a knock on the door. Rick sighed and, with one last glance at his daughter, went to answer it.    
“Rick, I - ” Deanna started, but broke mid-sentence, eyes opening a bit wider when she took Rick in. “Wow.” Her mouth fell open in a very comical way, and Rick rolled his eyes with a groan. He knew exactly what caused that reaction. 

“I didn't know what was under there,” Deanna explained with a shrug, but there was a happy sparkle in her eyes, something that told Rick it was all in good fun. _An attempt at humor. He had almost forgotten how it was like to joke around._ Waiting patiently, Rick opened the door a bit wider, trying to be hospitable in case she wanted to step in.

“Listen, I don't mean to interrupt,” Deanna started to explain, still looking only at Rick. Under any other circumstances, that stare would probably raise his hackles.  But this was just a middle-aged lady, keeping her distance from Rick, trying to be as non-threatening as she could. Even if she had all the traits of an alpha, she  _ wasn’t one, _ a fact that made all the difference in Rick’s opinion. 

“I just wanted to stop by and see how you were all settling,” she said, all motherly concern and soft voice. She finally looked around. “Oh, my... Staying together?” She glanced back at Rick. “Smart.”   
“No one said we couldn't,” Rick explained, feeling like he should try and rationalize his decision.    
“You said you're a family,” Deanna reminded, then looked back at him. “That's what you said.” 

“It’s absolutely amazing to me how people with completely different backgrounds and nothing in common can become that,” she went on, throwing a long glance at Rick’s group, not a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “Don't you think?”    
“Everybody said you gave them jobs,” Rick commented. He had heard about it, Maggie had told him so around two hours earlier.    
“Yeah,” Deanna nodded in confirmation. “Part of this place. Looks like the communists won after all.” She said, laughing.   
“Well, you didn't give me one,” Rick said. 

“I have.” Deanna smiled, and the expression on her face reminded Rick of a fox. “I just haven't told you yet. Same with Michonne,” she nodded at Michonne and she nodded back, suddenly serious, all traces of the previous playfulness gone. Deanna went on. “I'm closing in on something for Sasha. And I'm just trying to figure Mr. Dixon out, but I will,” she said, looking back at Rick, ignoring Daryl’s scoff.  Rick winced, knowing just how much Daryl didn’t like to be called  _ Mr. Dixon. _

He had told Rick that, back in the prison. It had been a drunken confession spurred on by Rick’s good mood and a full stomach, just after their estimated Christmas. Daryl had been goofing around with Beth and Maggie, and, being in high spirits, had let them put a tie on him. Rick had nudged him playfully, mumbling something along the lines of  _ “Looking sharp, Mr. Dixon.” _ Daryl had flinched away then, as if Rick had struck him across the face. He had looked down at his feet and asked Rick never to call him that again. 

Later on, Rick had learned that Daryl loathed being called Mr. Dixon, because it reminded him of his father. 

“You look good,” Deanna commented, interrupting Rick’s train of thought. He smiled politely at her. He watched her turn around and walk away, closing the door once he was sure she wasn’t coming back to add anything else.  When Rick locked the door for good measure and faced his family again, he almost grinned at them. 

They were all on high alert, standing or sitting, eyes focused on him, as if waiting for his command. Like a pack of wolves, ready to jump and bite out the throat of any person he pointed out for them. 

Rick smiled and shook his head slightly, before he walked over to Daryl.    
“Whaddaya think ‘bout her?” Daryl mumbled around his thumb, glancing at Rick from behind his overgrown hair. Rick shrugged, looking at Judith for a moment, before he dragged his gaze back towards his mate.    
“I don’t know yet. She seems alright, but you know how that is…” he said quietly, sighing. Daryl let out an answering hum and shifted to the side, silently making Rick space to sit. 

Rick took the spot without any further comments. 

 

-&-

 

Daryl stayed with Judith, silently keeping watch over her, while everyone else settled in for the night. Rick sat with him for a long time, just being there, pressed against his side, until he, too, wandered away. Daryl’s eyes followed him when Rick laid out a blanket on the floor, before he took Daryl’s and covered himself with it. There was something achingly sweet about Rick sleeping under Daryl’s blanket, something that made the alpha inside Daryl purr happily at the sight. He wanted to get there, slip under the cover of the plush material and wrap himself around Rick, smother himself in their combined scents until the morning tore them apart again. 

Shaking his head, Daryl checked if Judith was still asleep, before he got up and grabbed his crossbow. He walked silently to the door and opened it slowly, just enough so he could sneak out.    
“Hey,” Glenn greeted, side-eyeing him, before he went back to staring into the night. Daryl hummed in reply and found himself a comfortable spot on the porch. He sat down, propped his crossbow on the wall next to him, then frowned.    
“Thought Maggie was gonna keep watch with ya,” Daryl gruffed out, patting his pockets for a pack of cigarettes. 

He knew well that Maggie was currently sleeping inside, wrapped up in Glenn’s hoodie, but he was still curious. She had insisted earlier on taking that watch, after all. 

“She was tired,” Glenn replied, shrugging. Daryl eyed him, before he finally located his pack and took one cigarette out.    
“Why then?” Daryl knew that Glenn would catch on. He waited for the answer, lighting his cigarette and taking a long drag.    
“Same as you, I guess,” Glenn muttered, looking at him. “She wanted Rick to get some sleep. We know he hasn’t been sleeping well lately.”    
“Huh.” Daryl squinted at him, blowing the smoke out.    
“Listen…” Glenn hesitated, frowning, looking back into the darkness of Alexandria in front of their porch. 

Daryl waited, the cigarette pinched between his fingers glowing red. 

“Don’t bite my head off,” the Asian mumbled out finally, “but, I’ve been thinking… Those pills we were looking for… they were for Rick, right?” He asked, keeping his voice carefully level. It seemed that Daryl’s loaded silence, and a furious inhale of the smoke from his cancer stick was enough of an answer to him. 

“Shit.” Glenn whispered, running a hand through his hair.    
“Yeah,” Daryl gruffed out. He had a feeling Glenn had more questions, but his friend must have bitten his tongue quite hard and none of them came. The sat in silence for a few moments, listening to the sounds of frogs and a lone bird chirping in the distance. Daryl was starting to wonder what kind of a bird was crazy enough to sing in the middle of the night, but Glenn interrupted his thoughts. 

“You think we’re safe here?” He asked, and  _ yeah, _ it was a  _ very _ good question. Daryl shrugged.    
“Dunno yet. Don’t trust ‘em,” he nodded with his head in the direction of the house across the street, but Glenn knew he meant the whole town.    
“There’s something… it’s like with the farm, you know? They had it easy till now. No defences except for that wall, no clue about fighting…”    
“They’re weak,” Daryl agreed, taking another drag of his cigarette. 

“Rick wants us to keep up the appearances,” Glenn commented and Daryl sighed.    
“They seem t’ like Rick ‘nuff, so that’s good. The rest of us? We need ta keep quiet an’ pretend we’re playin’ along, until we have ‘em figured out.”    
“What then?” Glenn asked. “What if they’re as weak as we think they are?” Daryl thought about it for a moment, fiddling with the cigarette.    
“We’ll show ‘em the way,” he conceded, taking one final smoke-filled breath, before he stubbed the cigarette out on the porch, right next to a dark stain. His mind went back to the possum he had skinned in the morning, sitting more or less in the same place. 

Glenn yawned next to him, stretching his hands a little.    
“Go on, Chinaman, go to yer girl,” Daryl gruffed out, and Glenn rolled his eyes at the nickname, but stood up nevertheless.    
“You sure?”    
“Mhm. Go, git,” Daryl waved him away with a smirk.

He turned to watch the sleeping town, taking in the stillness around him. Unbidden, his thoughts went to Rick, to the way he had curled up under Daryl’s blanket and was sleeping peacefully inside. Daryl had to admit that something had been changing for him in the past week or so, something that directed his thoughts to Rick’s full lips and capable hands. He knew that Rick wasn’t really ready for anything like that, not by a long shot, but it didn’t stop Daryl’s gaze from focusing on him a bit too often. 

Back in the barn, when he had woken up to his own tongue pressed against Rick’s shoulder, he had panicked that he had screwed it all up. How could Rick trust him, if he didn’t trust himself not to try and get into his mate’s personal space.  He would have gotten up there and then, if it hadn’t been for Rick’s hand keeping him in place. Daryl was only happy that his hard-on had been completely unnoticed, thanks to him angling his hips away and forcing himself to think about something else. 

A quiet rustling behind caught Daryl’s attention and he sighed, rolling his eyes.    
“Told ya to go to yer girl,” he muttered, hoping that Glenn didn’t change his mind. He could use some midnight thoughts to clear his head, and doing that with his friend next to him seemed a bit disconcerting.    
“Last time I checked, I didn’t have a girl,” Rick’s voice surprised him, low but still clear, right behind his back.

Daryl whipped his head around, blinking up at the lone figure stepping out on the porch. Rick closed the door behind him and walked over, sitting down with a huff. There was a glint of metal near his hand that caught his attention, and Daryl frowned, looking down. _A knife._   
“Whaddaya need that fer?” He asked, nodding at it. Rick shrugged, bringing the knife up, using his other hand to finger along the dull, upper edge of the blade.   
“They took our weapons,” he said, as if that explained everything.   
“Don’t see no walkers amblin’ ‘round,” Daryl commented, looking to the side for good measure. Rick scoffed, but lowered the knife anyway, placing it quietly on the porch right next to his leg. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Daryl guessed, eyes following Rick’s hands when they came up to rub over his face.    
“Yeah… ‘s weird. Quiet.” He mumbled, sighing. “The floor’s too…” Rick trailed off, as if he didn’t know how to finish.    
“Soft?” Daryl prompted, only half-joking.    
_ “Even.” _

It was a testament to the years they had spent in the apocalypse. If the ground they were sleeping on was too even, they would not get enough sleep, their bodies reminding them that something was out of order. A bunched up blanket or an uncomfortable backpack under their heads? That was the norm… Their backs hurting from moulds on the ground, skin bruised from little rocks and twigs getting trapped under them. A hardwood floor, polished until they could see their reflections in it? That was so unnatural by now, it set all of them on high alert. 

Rick sat there motionless for a few moments, before a shiver ran through him, prompting him to get closer to Daryl. The hunter hummed quietly when Rick sneaked a hand around his waist, slipping it under the jacket he was wearing, hooking it around Daryl’s hip for a comfortable hold. Rick’s thumb encountered a sliver of bare skin where Daryl’s shirt rode up over the waistband, and he stroked it mindlessly, reveling in the softness. 

The hunter sucked in a breath at that, straightening up and digging into one of his pockets, taking out his pack of cigarettes. He looked inside and swore quietly, spotting he had only four of them left. He knew there was another box of them inside the house, hidden in his backpack, but it was already opened, too. He was running low. 

Taking one out, Daryl lit it quickly and inhaled, feeling the familiar burn in his lungs and wishing it would chase another burning sensation away. The moment Rick’s fingers had found his skin, he had felt sparks trickling down his spine. Rick’s sweet scent didn’t help, all omega-like, inviting him to lean a bit to the side and push his nose into Rick’s neck. 

His mate beat him to it, though. Squeezing himself closer against Daryl’s side, Rick tucked his face against Daryl’s chest, his nose brushing just shy of Daryl’s collarbone. He frowned and pulled away, however, when he felt Daryl going stiff as a board.    
“Don’t,” the hunter whispered, still not moving an inch. Rick’s frown only deepened and he craned his neck to the side, tilting his head to catch Daryl’s eyes. They were dark, darker than the night could possibly make them, staring into space, before they fluttered closed slowly.    
“What’s wrong?” Rick asked, leaning back, shivering when chilly air sneaked between them and took away all the warmth he had borrowed from Daryl. 

“Daryl... what’s wrong?” Rick asked again, placing one hand on Daryl’s knee, rubbing it up his thigh soothingly. The hunter looked down at it, eyes following the movement as if he had never seen Rick’s hand before.    
“Don’t wanna hurt ya,” came the quiet reply, only causing more confusion. Daryl bit his lip after that, refusing to say anything else. He closed his legs, dislodging Rick’s palm, then angled himself to the side. The shutdown felt so cold, Rick could swear his insides froze for a moment. He sat there, blinking stupidly, trying to figure out what had just happened, having only his instincts and Daryl’s body language to help him with getting the right picture.

When it dawned on him - after a long minute filled with some desperate observation of Daryl’s body - Rick almost laughed aloud. He  _ would have, _ if it hadn’t been for the miserable look Daryl gave him, hearing Rick’s sharp inhale.  _ Daryl was aroused. _ Deciding that he had to thread carefully, Rick shifted, getting to his knees in front of his mate.    
“Daryl,” he started, waiting for those stormy eyes to focus on him. It took a while, but finally, their gazes met. Rick smiled, just a little, just to put Daryl at ease. 

“It’s alright,” he whispered, placing his hands on Daryl’s bent knees, purposefully avoiding moving them. The hunter squinted up at him, releasing his bottom lip, only to throw the cigarette away and bring his thumb to his mouth. Rick frowned and, moving slowly, grasped Daryl’s wrist, tugging the hand away. When Daryl averted his gaze, staring at his own lap, Rick decided that enough was enough. He leaned in, letting go of Daryl’s wrist in favor of cupping his jaw with the same hand, his other still planted firmly on Daryl’s knee. 

It was a bit of a struggle - coaxing Daryl to look at him, but he did finally, glancing anxiously from behind his too-long hair.  Rick felt the urge to kiss him like a physical need - a blow that caught him right in the center of his solar plexus and kept on pressing - so he dove in and did just that. There were still Daryl’s legs forcing them apart, but Rick didn’t pay them any attention, pressing against Daryl’s knees with his chest, reaching over and tugging his hunter in for a sweet kiss.    
“It’s alright,” he whispered again, this time against Daryl’s lips, feeling the full-bodied shudder that shook Daryl’s frame. 

A few heartbeats, a small pause, and Daryl’s legs were falling open, his own hands wandering up to Rick’s neck, fingers brushing through the short hair at the nape of his neck. Daryl curled forward, bringing their mouths together again, muffling a desperate sound against Rick’s lips.

Daryl tasted like cigarettes, like smoke and wood, like spring and all the things he wanted to devour right now.  Rick surprised even himself when he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue inside Daryl’s mouth, stroking it hesitantly against Daryl’s. With the barrier of Daryl’s knees gone, Rick moved a bit closer, forcing Daryl to lean back against the wall behind him. They never stopped kissing, and Rick tilted his head a bit to have a better access, sucking and nibbling on Daryl’s lip, a small moan escaping him when  Daryl’s fingers tightened on reflex and tugged softly at his short curls.

“Jesus,” Daryl breathed out, breaking for air, eyes wide and dark. Rick let out a small chuckle, before  he pressed their foreheads together. He looked down between them, let his hands travel from Daryl’s jaw to his neck, then lower, rubbing along his chest. When it slipped to the waistband of Daryl’s pants, the alpha stiffened, holding his breath. Slowly but surely, Rick dragged his palm over Daryl’s zipper, moving it to the side and  wrapping his fingers around the outline of the half-hard cock hidden under the material. 

Like this, it didn’t feel threatening. Rick still had his clothes on,  _ Daryl still had his clothes on, _ and it seemed safe to touch, to  _ explore... _ even if only a bit. Feeling emboldened, Rick squeezed gently, licking his lips when Daryl’s hips bucked up instinctively.    
_ “Rick,” _ Daryl growled out, hissing when Rick tightened his hand again.    
“I can…” he hesitated.  _ You can what, Rick? Give him a blowjob? A handjob?  _ He bit his lip hard, before continuing. “I can try…”    
“No,” Daryl murmured, grabbing Rick’s hand and prying it away from his groin, swallowing down a needy sound that threatened to break free. 

“But,” Rick protested, looking up at him in confusion. Daryl was still hard... getting harder every second, actually, and Rick doubted just wishing it away would work. He frowned, catching Daryl’s gaze.   
“Shh…” the hunter soothed, shaking his head lightly. “Not yet.” The confused frown only deepened, and Daryl sighed. “Yer not ready yet. Maybe later, but not today,” he stated, tightening his hand around Rick’s. 

“‘sides, we ain’t gonna do it ‘ere. We’ve got a bedroom now, remember?” Daryl went on, giving Rick a quick kiss - one Rick wanted to follow blindly - before he relaxed back against the wall.    
“What if I want to try?” Rick wondered aloud, sitting back on his heels, staring at the porch.    
“I ain’t ready either,” Daryl muttered, so quietly Rick almost didn’t catch it. He jerked his head up in surprise, mouth falling open.    
“What?” He asked, his gaze unintentionally flicking to Daryl’s crotch, where a clear outline was still visible. But Daryl shook his head sadly, digging out a fresh cigarette. 

“May get carried ‘way, hurt ya,” Daryl explained, lighting his smoke and taking a long drag.    
“You wouldn’t,” Rick protested.    
“Yeah. ‘s why I’m sayin’  _ not yet,” _ Daryl pointed out, blowing out the smoke. 

They fell silent after that, sitting like they were, staring into the night, until Daryl finally told Rick to get back and catch some shuteye. Rick didn’t protest, standing up and walking in quietly, but not before he stole a quick kiss. 


	16. Nadchodzi wieczór i nie mogę spać

When Rick stepped out on the porch the next morning, Daryl was still sitting there. Rick wasn’t sure whether he had caught some sleep the night before, or if he had just stayed outside the whole night. Hoisting Judith higher on his hip, Rick moved forward, stepping right next to the hunter.  
“Morning,” he said, smiling a bit at Daryl’s answering grunt. “They said explore,” Rick prompted, glancing around. “Let’s explore.”  
“Nah, I’ll stay,” Daryl gruffed out. Rick looked at him, wondering if there was something underneath that comment, something that he could pick apart and tie to the previous night, but Daryl was busy with his crossbow, fiddling with something near the handle.  
“Alright.”

He turned around just in time to see Carl walking out. He smiled at his son, passing Judith to him when Carl stretched his arms in her direction. He watched them go down the steps and onto the street, feeling something very warm spreading through his chest when Judith started to look around, curiously.  
“Lori and me, we used to drive through neighborhoods like this,” Rick started, remembering their plans from before. “You know… thinking, ‘one day’...”  
“Well, here we are,” Daryl pointed out. If there was some kind of a deeper meaning to this, it flew right over Rick’s head.    
“We'll be back.” He nodded to Daryl, got a hum in response, and went after Carl.

 

-&-

 

Walking out on the street was a bad idea. It was full of people he didn’t know - well, _full…_ there was certainly more people than they had gotten used to. Rick looked around helplessly, his heart kicking into a fast rhythm when he couldn’t locate Carl and Judith. Feeling blind panic raising within, Rick ran to the end of the road, going left when he reached the middle of the T it formed. Turning around, making sure he hadn’t missed Carl by accident, he stumbled into something and fell back, catching himself in the last moment.

“Rick, you okay?” A familiar voice asked behind him, and Rick spun around, some of his panic easing off when he spotted Jessie watching him with worried eyes. _Where were Carl and Judith?_  
“Did Carl and Judith walk by?” He asked quickly, wishing Daryl was with him. The hunter would probably keep tabs on his kids without any problems. “We were out and they were ahead of me…” Rick babbled, still looking around wildly.  
“It's okay.” Jessie nodded, eyes full of something Rick couldn’t really place. “I think I know where they are,” she said, grabbing his hand and tugging on it once, letting go as soon as she did. _Why didn’t he take Daryl with him?_

Rick followed her when she started to walk down the road, circling a few houses, stopping in front of one that looked a bit older than the rest of them. On the porch at the front, an elderly couple was sitting, Carl standing nearby, Judith wrapped securely in his arms.

“That's Natalie and Bob Miller,” Jessie explained softly. Rick didn’t really listen, too busy gulping in some much needed oxygen. “They had five kids and 12 grandkids,” she went on. “It's been a long time since anyone around here has seen a baby… She's gonna have to put up with some pinched cheeks.” Jessie smiled gently, glancing back at him, eyes still worried.  
“Thanks,” Rick muttered, now feeling stupid for his panicking. “I just, um…”  
“It's okay,” Jessie reassured. “I get it.” And she looked like she really did. Something must have happened in her life that had given her gentle stare the sad edge which Rick noticed, even despite the near heart-attack he had just gone through.

“Look, I'm sorry I broke... whatever that was I broke,” he said, biting his lip. She waved him off.  
“It's a sculpture I'm making with the boys,” Jessie explained with a small smile. “It's an owl. I mean, it will be. I just can't get the eyes right…” she went on, and Rick had a feeling she did it mostly for his benefit.  
“Right, the eyes,” he said, trying not to sound skeptical.  
“You didn't even get a good look at it.” Her smile told Rick that she didn’t really mind. He shook his head with a sigh. _Busted._  
“I was in the middle of _losing my mind,”_ he justified, before he took a deep breath. “Thank you.”  
“You're welcome.”

She started walking away, but seemed to change her mind, turning back to him.  
“Hey, Rick?” she asked, “would it be okay if Carl came over now? Ron really wants to meet him.”

Rick nodded, smiling. He felt only good vibes coming from her, and he figured that if she had helped him with finding Carl, he could try and make friends with her.

 

-&-

 

Rick volunteered for the first watch that night. He spent four hours sitting on the porch, watching as the streets slowly became deserted. He ate a late dinner with Daryl, sharing a plate of baked beans and meat between them, before the hunter excused himself and went back inside. Rick was glad for it, he could use the time to get some thinking done.

He let his mind take the reins, thoughts wandering from one topic to another, jumping between Alexandria and its safety behind the steel walls, to Daryl and what they were doing together. He didn’t even notice the passing of time, until Daryl cleared his throat behind him, shuffling from one foot to another.

Rick got up and smiled at him, freeing their unofficial guarding point, and walked inside, leaving Daryl to take over the rest of the watch.

Rick was sure he would be out the second he lied down on the blankets. They smelled of Daryl, the scent of his mate heavy on the thick fabric, cocooning Rick in the calming feeling of being protected. Try as he might, though, he couldn’t force his body to sleep. He lied there, staring up at the ceiling, until he finally gave up. He walked to the kitchen, peering through the window, standing there almost motionless until he heard rustling behind his back. He threw glance over his shoulder. _Michonne._

“Deanna hasn't given me a job yet,” she said quietly, stepping closer and looking through the window, too.  
“You want one?”  
“Yeah. Do you?” She asked back, shifting her gaze to stare at Rick. He turned his eyes to the window again.  
“That's signing the papers,” he answered, sighing. “That's saying _yes, this is how it is.”_  
“You afraid to do that?” Michonne wondered aloud, frowning.  
“Aren't you?”  
“No.” Her answer was almost too quick. Maybe it was her confidence, maybe it was her courage… Rick wasn’t sure why, but it made him think about Shane.

“So then why are we both awake?” He asked aloud instead, watching as Michonne frowned.

He knew there was something about this place that made them both uneasy, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Taking a deep breath, he turned to her. “I'm gonna take a walk,” he muttered, giving her shoulder a pat, before he walked to the door.

Daryl was sitting on the porch, looking up at him with worried eyes as soon as Rick stepped out.  
“Can’t sleep?” The hunter asked, and Rick shook his head. He went down the steps, looking up into the clear sky, spotting a few stars.  
“Summer triangle,” Daryl muttered, much to Rick’s surprise.  
“The bright one… it’s Vega, right?” He asked, pointing at the brightest star he could see.  
“Mhm,” Daryl hummed next to him.  
“And that constellation next to it?” Rick could see a cluster of four stars making an almost square shape, surrounded by numerous dimmer ones.  
“To the right?” Daryl asked, shifting a bit on the porch. “Hercules,” he said after a few seconds. Rick smiled, still taking in the bright spots shining down at them.

“I’m gonna take a walk,” Rick said, zipping up his coat.

 

-&-

 

“You're Rick.”

Rick whipped his head to the side, trying to pinpoint where the sound had come from. He was walking along the main street, passing quiet houses and dark windows, glancing at the starlit sky above him from time to time. He had to resist the urge to compare Daryl to Hercules, because really, that sounded ridiculous, even in his own mind. The sudden voice to his left startled him, halting his stride and stopping his thoughts to a jarring halt.

“Yeah.” Rick squinted his eyes in the darkness, only now spotting a dark figure on the porch of a house he was just about to pass, surrounded in cigarette smoke.  
“My wife cut your hair,” the silhouette stated, bringing something that looked like a bottle up and taking a slow sip. Rick almost winced.

It was an alpha, and there was something sleazy in his voice, some kind of dominant possessiveness, that caused a cold shiver to run down Rick’s spine. This voice, _this man,_ reminded him of Joe, of what he had done to Rick, of the pain and the humiliation mixing together, keeping Rick’s head down better than any verbal threat ever could.

“Yeah,” Rick said, quieter, one hand inching towards where his gun should have been, only to remember that his Colt had been taken to the armory. He had stashed a Glock outside Alexandria, but he would have to go and retrieve it first, so it was useless now. Rick was waiting for the man’s next words, feeling the oncoming attack. He licked his lips and could swear he felt the taste of blood and gunpowder on them.

“Welcome to Alexandria,” the man rasped out finally, bringing a lit cigarette up to his lips and inhaling. Rick took a deep breath, nodded at him and walked on.

 

-&-

 

The new day brought a playful banter between Carol and Daryl, something Rick heard even from inside the house. He chuckled when Daryl called Carol out on looking ridiculous, tempted to throw his two cents in, too. But he knew they all had to keep up the appearances, and if Carol had decided to play the good housewife, he was all in for that.

Whatever she had said to Daryl on that porch must have worked - either a plea or a threat - because Daryl, looking for all the world as if he was sulking, dragged himself to take a shower at last. Rick couldn’t say he wasn’t grateful for the hunter’s attempt at keeping the charade going, but he had to admit that there was something comforting in Daryl’s scent, something that kept Rick from going mad in this town full of alien alphas. But, for now, the facade was the most important thing they had going, and Rick was well aware that it wouldn’t take long for the people to spot the odd one out.

Smirking to himself, he sat in the living room, listening to the quiet pitter-patter of the water upstairs.

 

-&-

 

Signing his Colt out of the armory was almost too easy. Rick knew that those people didn’t really know much about safety, but this was _idiotic._ He gave his reason - _checking the walls from the outside -_ and was handed the gun. Easy and simple.

_It was a good thing he didn’t want to kill all of them, because he wouldn’t have the slightest trouble doing it._

Walking out was even easier, something that surprised him. _Wanna check out the walls - sure thing man - will be back by dinner - watch out there._ He had to bite his tongue not to bark ‘watch yourselves in here’ at them. Their happy-go-lucky approach to life set Rick’s teeth on edge.

He strode through the forest, keeping to the walls only as long as it took to get off their radar, before he ducked to the side. He directed his steps to the small shack, next to which he had hidden his Glock before. A few walkers ambling around only quickened his stride, and soon, Rick was bending over a pile of rubbish, searching for the mixer in which the gun was supposed to be waiting for him.

_It was empty._

He threw the plastic contained away angrily, throwing a glance behind his shoulder and eyeing the walkers closing in on his spot. There were three of them, their rotting mouths open and snarling, stumbling a bit in their walk. Rick gritted his teeth together. He was too close to Alexandria not to grab anyone's attention in case he used his gun. Holstering it, he took out his knife.

_Three walkers were manageable._

Getting ready to go for it, Rick looked to the side, a small movement catching his eye.

_Carl._

His son was walking towards him, eyes wide in surprise. It was such an unexpected sight that Rick almost forgot about the walkers behind him. He was already opening his mouth to ask what was Carl even doing there, when his son grabbed his own knife, bringing Rick back to the present.

Together, they worked quickly and efficiently, killing two walkers, struggling with the third. Hearing the commotion, another dead one emerged from under the pile, grabbing Rick’s ankle and tugging him backwards. Carl was beside him in a blink, pushing his knife through the third walker’s skull and pulling Rick away from the one on the ground. It crawled after him, its rotten jaws chomping away, and Rick turned around, grabbing a rusty rod that was lying on the pile.  
“Dad,” Carl prompted, reaching for it and Rick nodded, giving him the rod, watching as his son jammed it into the skull of the final walker, putting it down.

It wasn’t until they turned around and started to walk back to Alexandria that they started talking.  
“What were you doing out here?” Rick asked, not judging, trying to keep his fatherly instincts at bay. Carl had a gun on him, he had a knife, and he had proved that he was capable of taking down a walker. His son shrugged.  
“I thought I saw something… went to check it out,” he said, looking at the ground. “What about you?”  
“I had a gun stashed in there…” Rick started, rubbing the back of his neck. “Someone took it.”

“You think we’ll need a gun inside?” Carl asked, glancing up at him. Rick shrugged.  
“There are people inside that don’t seem too friendly,” he explained, looking around. Even the forest was quiet this close to Alexandria.  
“Don’t worry, dad,” Carl said, his eyes fixed on the path in front of them. “We can protect ourselves without that gun.”

The proud lilt in his voice, the way he straightened up - it told Rick just how much Carl had grown in the past few months. He had matured, and was now a young alpha - something that Rick didn’t dare to doubt. The irony of the afternoon - an alpha son helping out his omega dad with a little walker problem - wasn’t lost on Rick, either. Smiling softly, telling himself that it was okay, because they were a family, Rick placed an arm around Carl’s shoulders in a one-sided hug.

 

-&-

 

There was a commotion at the gates, and Rick picked up his pace when he spotted Daryl and Glenn standing in the middle of the angry group. Tara and Noah were just a bit to the side, Deanna pushing through them, standing behind one of her sons, Michonne just rounding the corner.

Suddenly, Deanna’s son - _Aiden? -_ threw a punch at Glenn. It was easy to be avoided, which Glenn did, ducking down and coming back with his own fist. It crashed into Aiden’s nose, sending him reeling back. Deanna’s other son moved then, jumping forward and trying to get his hands on Glenn. Daryl was quicker, though - he barreled into the man, sending him to the ground.

Rick broke into run.

“Hey, hey!” Rick said, wrapping his arms around Daryl’s shoulders when it seemed that his mate was intent on strangling the young alpha in front of him. It was almost as if Daryl snapped, going back to his basic instincts, protecting his family from enemies. “Let’s not do this now,” Rick rasped, only loud enough to be heard by the hunter. He tugged back, using his own body’s weight for leverage, finally managing to tear Daryl’s hands away from the guy’s - _Nicholas’?_ \- throat. He coughed and sputtered, scrambling back and getting up. Rick took a step backwards, throwing one hand against Daryl’s chest, keeping him at a safe distance.

He watched as Michonne walked up to Aiden, getting into his face and asking if he wanted to end up on his ass again. There was a huff behind him, and Rick glanced at Daryl, all fuming and walking in circles like a caged animal.  
“Daryl,” Rick said, mostly to catch the alpha’s attention. Daryl met his gaze for a brief moment, nodded almost imperceptibly, and went back to his pacing.

Deanna stepped closer, eyeing her sons, before she coughed to get everyone’s attention.  
“I want everyone to hear me, okay?” She said, loud and clear. “Rick and his people are part of this community now in all ways as equals.” She turned to Nicholas. “Understood?”  
“Understood.” He bowed his head and looked down saying this, and Rick felt a twisted kind of satisfaction at watching this young alpha cowering before her.  
“All of you, turn in your weapons,” Deanna commanded, then turned to Aiden. “Then you two come talk to me.”

Rick watched as they stepped aside, letting Aiden’s mother through. She walked to Rick.  
“I told you I had a job for you,” she started, eyes sparkling. “I'd like you to be our constable. That's what you were… That's what you _are,”_ she said, then turned to Michonne. “And you, too.”

Michonne looked between her and Rick, a small, tentative smile forming on her lips.  
“Will you accept?” Deanna addressed Rick again.  
“Okay.” He nodded, thinking about the possibilities of being allowed to carry a gun inside Alexandria. He could protect his family better like this, that much was clear. Deanna smiled, looking back at Michonne, waiting for her answer.  
“Yeah, I'm in.”

In the background, Daryl scoffed. He grabbed his crossbow and left without a backwards glance.  
“Thank you,” Deanna murmured, turning to Glenn.  
“For what?”  
“For knocking him on his ass.”

 

-&-

 

Later in the evening, Rick put on a police uniform he had received from Deanna. By a small miracle, it was just his size - Michonne didn’t have such luck and was currently tinkering with hers to make it fit.

Shrugging to make the jacket lay better on his shoulders, Rick walked through the quiet house. Everyone was still here, their whole family spread out through the living room, glancing up at him as soon as he set his feet inside. He scanned familiar faces, frowning when one was missing. His eyes searched out Carol, raised eyebrows asking her silently for directions. She nodded towards the front door and Rick straightened up, before making his way out and onto the porch.

Daryl was standing there, hips cocked to the side, pressed against the banister. He had a lit cigarette in his hand, and Rick bit his lip for a second, remembering the last time he had seen Daryl smoke - the previous night, just after their impromptu kiss.

“We good?” He asked, clearing his throat, looking at Daryl. The alpha nodded.  
“Yeah.” He seemed to contemplate something, as if weighing if it was worth starting a topic or not. Behind him, Rick could hear Carol walking out of the house and joining them. He almost smiled when he realized that he could recognize his people by their walk alone.

“Ya cop again?” Daryl said finally, taking a quick drag of the smoke. Rick sighed. He had a feeling Daryl wasn’t one to like cops, the end of the world notwithstanding.  
“I'm trying it on for size,” Rick mumbled, looking down at his feet, resisting the urge to roll his shoulders. The uniform suddenly felt ill-fitting, as if the aversion in Daryl’s voice had shrunk it two sizes down.

“So we're staying?” Carol spoke from behind him and Rick nodded, looking around.   
“I think we can start sleeping in our own homes,” he mused, looking back at Daryl. “Settle in.” He wondered what the hunter would do. Would he try to claim one of the bedrooms for himself, now that he didn’t have to keep tabs on Rick because they had the safety of the walls around them? Or would he install himself in Rick’s room without hesitation?

“If we get comfortable here, we let our guard down... this place is gonna make us weak,” Carol said, voicing everyone’s concerns. Rick knew that this was a possibility - they could get weak if they became lazy. Without the threat of walkers looming just around the corner, with walls separating them from their possible enemies, they could forget just what it meant to survive.  
“Carl said that,” Rick muttered, swallowing heavily. “But it's not gonna happen. We won't get weak,” he went on, glancing at Daryl. “That's not in us anymore. We'll make it work.”

He walked a few steps and gazed at the sleeping town. They needed it. “If they can't make it, then we'll just take this place,” Rick stated, turning to look at Daryl and Carol. They both gave him small nods in agreement, before Daryl stuck the cigarette back in his mouth. Carol sent him a tentative smile, then excused herself, leaving only him and the hunter on the porch.

“Yesterday…” Rick started, before he was sure if the topic would be well received. Daryl looked up sharply at him, his stormy eyes giving Rick his full attention.  
“What ‘bout it?” Daryl prompted, when he saw the hesitation.  
“I wanna…” Rick licked his lips, drawing the bottom one inside his mouth and biting on it, before he continued, his voice a low murmur. “I wanna do it again.”

Daryl was silent, eyes boring into Rick, his stare so heavy Rick felt it like a physical touch.  
“Ya sure yer ready?” Daryl asked finally, eyes narrowing into that squint Rick knew so well by now. He shrugged.  
“I don’t know,” he said, looking down at his boots. “I won’t know until I try. Will you…,” he hesitated, sending Daryl a pleading glance. “Would you consider letting me try? With _you?”_ Rick asked, swallowing around the gravel that filled his throat suddenly.  
“We’re mates, right?” Daryl gruffed out in answer, shrugging. “‘s what mates do.”

Something in that sentence didn’t sound quite right, something was off, and even before Rick had any time to analyze what it was, he opened his mouth again.  
“What about before?” He ventured. “If we hadn’t… what then?”  
_“If,_ Rick,” Daryl echoed, putting out his cigarette. He turned around and made as if to walk inside, before he paused. “‘m gonna get Abe for the watch. We should both get some sleep.” And with that, he was gone, the door closing behind him with a quiet click.

Rick barely noticed, thinking about what Daryl had said, or rather, what he _hadn’t_ said. He hadn’t answered Rick’s question, only throwing the proverbial ball back at him and ducking away. Rick didn’t like it. For some reason, he felt as if he had forced Daryl into this… which he kind of had, if he was to be honest with himself. Maybe Daryl didn’t want it? Maybe he had done it just to help Rick with his problem and wasn’t interested in continuing this… whatever it was?

But then, why had he been going out of his way to keep Rick at his side? All the cuddling and holding, their sleeping arrangements and his whispered ‘I do’ after Rick’s reluctant admission to Carl?

_Because you’re his omega now, you idiot._

Rick winced, shaking his head to clear it.

Absentmindedly, he noticed that Abe had come out to change him, patting Rick on the shoulder and grumbling something under that red moustache of his. Rick nodded mechanically, wandering inside the house and up the stairs, steering his steps to the bedroom at the end of the corridor. When he passed by the door to Carl’s room - left slightly ajar and revealing his son leaning over Judith’s crib - he smiled, feeling a bit of warmth spreading through him.

He walked on, nodding to Michonne, who had installed herself in the room right next to Carl’s, her katana hanging on the wall above the mantelpiece. She waved at him with a sincere, face-splitting smile. Rick envied her the confidence she seemed to be radiating. He marched on, hearing water splashing in the bathroom, thinking about Daryl brushing his teeth or washing his hands.

With a sigh, Rick started to take off his uniform jacket, placing it on the dresser just inside his bedroom. The rest of his clothes followed, until he was standing there covered only by his boxers and a soft t-shirt, shivering a bit at the chilly air of the night. He didn’t feel like folding, so he left his clothes in a pile, going out of his way just to ensure that they wouldn’t fall down to the floor.

He turned around and eyed the bed, thoughts circling back to Daryl in the bathroom. Rick wondered if the hunter would join him, if he should expect him and leave some space on the bed. _He wanted that,_ Rick realized with surprise. He wanted Daryl’s arms around his waist, keeping him close in the night, making him feel safer than steel walls ever could.

Rick crawled on the bed, settling himself on the half further from the door. He slipped under the comforter and tucked it around his body, curling up on his side, facing away from the entrance. After a bit of thinking, he reached back with one hand and grasped the corner of the covers on the other half of the bed, drawing it away invitingly, hoping Daryl would get the message. Snuggling back into the too-soft pillow, Rick waited.

 

-&-

 

When Daryl stepped out of the bathroom and directed his steps to the bedroom, he felt more tired than he was ready to admit. A few late-night watches, and he was really looking forward to a good night’s sleep. Walking quietly on light feet, he entered the bedroom, smirking at the Rick-shaped lump under the covers. He mourned the loss of curls - the shredded mane was a lot shorter now, hair barely long enough to tangle at the back of Rick’s head - but the dark mop sticking out over the top of the comforter still made him want to smash his face into it.

Throwing his clothes on the dresser right next to Rick’s pile, Daryl made his way to the bed. He was wearing a dark tank-top and a pair of loose sweats - both of which he had found after uprooting half of the house, looking for clothes that he would be able to squeeze himself into.

Sliding under the covers and curling himself up behind Rick was easy - so easy that Daryl let his arm wrap itself around Rick’s waist without thinking, keeping them close just like he would on the road. He let out a long breath, settling down, wondering absentmindedly how he would manage to sleep on such a soft surface. He was about to close his eyes and let Rick’s sweet scent lull him for the night, when he felt Rick shiver.

It wasn’t just a twitch that bodies sometimes make when they are on the brink of sleep. It was a full-bodied shudder, raking Rick’s whole frame. Daryl’s eyes popped open when it happened again, chased by a small sigh from Rick, a slight tension creeping up his frame and tightening his muscles where Daryl’s arm encircled him  
“Rick?” He whispered, flexing his fingers, feeling how Rick’s abdomen fluttered under them. Rick hummed in response and Daryl frowned. He was almost sure Rick had been sleeping when he had gotten there. “What is’t?” The hunter asked, raising his head slightly, eyes scanning the room instinctively, before they settled on what little of Rick’s face he could see from his position behind him.

Rick was silent for a long time - so long, Daryl was thinking he might have drifted off in the meantime.  
“Would we be… _doing this,_ if not for… what we… if not for the church?” Rick asked finally, hesitatingly forming the words, as if giving them up hurt him physically. Daryl’s frown deepened.  
“What is’t ‘bout?” He asked back, hand tightening on Rick’s stomach.  
“You said… never mind.” Rick shook his head slightly, and Daryl missed the rustle his beard would normally provoke. He let his head fall back to the pillow, mind busy mulling over Rick’s words. It took him a few minutes to connect the dots.

“T’is ‘bout what I said on the porch?” He prompted, getting a slow, tentative nod from Rick.

_Well, fuck._

Daryl sighed, then shifted closer to Rick, moving until there was barely any space left between them.  
“My pa was an alpha,” Daryl whispered into the back of Rick’s neck, causing another shiver to run down Rick’s spine. “Liked ta drink. Liked ta beat up on us. Mom was jus’ a regular woman... liked ta smoke, liked ta drink sometimes. She was never three sheets ta the wind, though,” Daryl went on, voice hushed. He knew Rick was listening intently anyway.

“Dad would come home, wasted off his ass, and solve all his problems with his fists. I hated ‘im fer that, ya know? A few times… I guess we were too little to catch on with what was goin’ on. Well, _I was._ Merle knew, prolly. Dad would come home, get right ta yellin’, try ta hit on us. Mom would try to get him away, ya know? Get his attention. He would push her ‘round for some time, as if bein’ an alpha justified his bein’ an asshole. Then he took her to their room,” Daryl paused here, swallowing convulsively.

“‘t was better bein’ a kid… I didn’t get half of the shit tha’ happened ‘round me. Now? I know what he did to ‘er,” he tucked his face against Rick’s neck, as if hiding in Rick’s hair was the only thing that could keep him from falling apart.

“You’re not your father,” Rick whispered, grabbing the arm still wrapped around his waist, squeezing their fingers together.  
“Nah. But that’s what I grew up with. When ya asked me ‘bout before… _I don’t know, Rick.”_ Daryl paused, nuzzling against the nape of Rick’s neck, nose brushing over the delicate skin, moving a bit to the side and almost grazing the bite mark he had left there. “Think I can control myself now… but I ain’t sure I would back when we first met…”

Rick could believe it. Daryl was the one who had thrown squirrels at him on their first meeting, after all. Hell, it hadn’t been the only argument they had had during their first months together, either.  
“If yer askin’ me if I love ya,” Daryl went on, his words so quiet, Rick could barely make them out. “Then the answer is _yes.”_ The confession was accompanied by a soft kiss placed on Rick’s shoulder, and Rick’s throat tightened at the feeling.

“If yer askin’ me to fuck you, the answer is no. _Not yet,_ because I don’t trust myself with this yet.” Daryl was glad that their first time in the church, spurred on by their bad luck with finding medication, had been so clinical and full of fear that his alpha side had mostly been lying dormant. Now though? With Rick’s sweet, enticing scent, with his body healed up and his omega side making him more adventurous?

_Daryl was only a man._

Rick moved suddenly in his embrace, shifting around until he was facing Daryl, eyes wide and bright even in the near-darkness of the room around them. Daryl ran one hand through his hair, before he skimmed it lower, letting it drop to Rick’s neck.  
“Better?” He asked softly, taking in Rick’s tired gaze.  
“I love you,” Rick breathed out on a sigh, leaning in and pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss, pulling away after a few seconds. He snuggled close, tucking himself against Daryl’s chest, humming appreciatively when Daryl hooked an arm around his back to keep him from drawing away.

 

-&-

 

The next morning, Rick woke up briefly to the feeling of lips pressed against his forehead. He cracked his eyes only wide enough to see Daryl climbing out of bed, nod at Daryl’s “sleep, ‘s early,” and snuggle up into the pillows again.

When he woke up the second time, he was surrounded with Daryl’s scent. It lingered on the sheets, stronger in a few places - all of which Rick followed mindlessly with his nose, mapping out the bed with his eyes still closed. He practically crawled the whole expanse of it, until he finally settled on a particular spot where the scent was most prominent, sighing before he damn near _smothered_ himself with the fluffy pillow.

Out on the road, Daryl’s scent was a comforting presence, smelling of home and protection, making Rick feel safe even when they had no cover for the night, and the forest around them seemed more dangerous than normally.

Now though? Daryl’s clean, freshly-showered scent had a different quality to it, something that pulled at Rick’s insides and made him all warm and pliant. Taking a lungful of it, almost tasting _Daryl_ on his tongue as he did, Rick realized something.

_He was hard._

For the first time since Joe had happened, he actually woke up with his length hot and heavy between his legs, demanding his attention. It was so surprising, Rick sucked in a breath, rolling his hips experimentally against the mattress. It felt _good,_ the sparkling, almost electric sensation traveling through him, lighting his whole body, only to pool at the base of his spine. Feeling bold, Rick sneaked one hand to his hips, running it over his clothed erection. He was rewarded with tingling pleasure spreading through him, tearing a small moan out of him. He didn’t bother to swallow it down, knowing he was alone in the room and, judging by the amount of light pouring into the room through the windows, in the house, too.

Everyone was probably up and about, running errands and trying to make friends with the Alexandrians. Rick figured it was as good a time as any to try and see how much his body had healed.

He brought his hand to the waistband of the boxers he was wearing, fingers skimming over the edge of the material, before he inched them inside. Wrapping his fist around his length was as natural as always, his hips rocking forward instinctively, seeking friction in the tightness of his hand. Rick closed his eyes and pushed his face against the pillow, chasing Daryl’s scent as he started to move his fist - a slow, easy motion, a small twist at the end and back down.

Rick groaned, inhaling, reveling in the alpha smell still lingering on the covers. His body was sparkling, arousal coursing through him and setting his nerves on fire, images of Daryl crossing his mind.

Daryl holding him tightly. Daryl kissing him like a man drowning...

_Daryl poised over him, pressing Rick down into the mattress._

Rick paused, licking his lips. It was weird how good it felt to think about Daryl like this. Rick had been almost sure that picturing anyone - even _Daryl_ \- hovering over him and keeping him caged against the bed would bring his panic back on full blast. None of this happened, however, and his cock gave a very interested throb at the mental image of Daryl kneeling over him. Deciding to go with the picture, Rick rolled on his back, one hand still wrapped around his cock.

Biting his lip against the sound that wanted to escape, Rick started to move his hand again, shifting when he felt something weird. Reaching with his other hand, he slipped his fingers down to his ass, touching his entrance with the very tips. They came away wet.

Jesus _Christ._

He was even getting slick, and good _god,_ maybe it wasn’t an achievement for an omega, but considering the circumstances, even getting a hard-on was big, not to mention _this._

Rick rubbed at his entrance curiously, trying to assess whether he could get back to having this kind of sex in the future. The sensation was pleasant, but his mind connected the spot with the past, bringing back Joe’s laughing face and memories filled with pain and humiliation. Rick swallowed convulsively, then drew his fingers away. He could feel himself lose interest in what he was doing, the tight grip of his fist no longer as pleasurable as it had been just a few moments before.

Not wanting to let this chance at normalcy slip away, he closed his eyes and tried to picture Daryl. The sole idea of Daryl’s broad hands sliding over his skin, mapping out his bones and muscles, rubbing heat into his flesh… Rick didn’t bother to stifle the moan this time. He threw his head back, moving his hand over his cock again, pausing at the head to smear around the wetness that gathered there.

Once he started, he couldn’t stop thinking about Daryl. He wondered how Daryl would hold him - would he settle behind Rick or crawl over him like he had done in the church? Would his lips be busy kissing along Rick’s neck, following an invisible trail to his bite mark, or would they hover just next to his ear, whispering sweet nothings Rick needed to hear so badly? And Daryl’s eyes… Staring right into his own, filled with fire and love, making it impossible for Rick to look away.

That last image pushed Rick over the edge unexpectedly, a surprised groan fighting its way out of his throat until it rang in the empty bedroom, his cock jerking in his grasp. He could feel his come covering the front of the boxers, wet and sticky, making a right mess - but somehow Rick didn’t really mind. It had been so long since he had had any release that this only felt obscenely decadent.

Panting in the afterglow, licking his suddenly dry lips and clearing his throat, Rick wondered how it would look like if Daryl was there. Would he want to try this? Would Rick have the courage to do anything? He knew that Daryl said no to fucking him, and frankly, now, in the bright daylight, Rick wasn’t sure he would go that far. If he _had to,_ sure, he had done it already after all. But to try and do something together _for pleasure?_

Shaking his head, scrunching his nose at the mess in his boxers, Rick reluctantly dragged himself out of bed and into the bathroom. A shower would do him good right now.

 

-&-

 

The day was filled with things that kept Rick’s mind off of his little surprising discovery in the morning. He had talked with Carol and Daryl, making plans to find themselves some guns. They settled on stealing some from the armory - Carol’s idea - and agreed to wait for the night’s welcoming party to do it. Carol would sneak into the armory and get the pistols. Rick liked that plan, it seemed simple and efficient. He also knew that Carol was competent enough to carry it out.

They had a talk with Deanna, too, and all through it, Rick felt like hitting his head against the wall. The safety issue… the concept of _safety_ had seemingly gone over those people’s heads with a speed that left everyone breathless and dumbfounded. It was clear they didn’t know the first thing about keeping tabs on the walls, but to leave the watchtower _empty?_ It was so reckless, Rick almost laughed at it.

_Good thing they were here, now, indeed._

Coming back home, Rick felt a bit disappointed that Daryl wasn’t there. He knew his mate went to check out the woods for game and possible threats, his alpha side thinking about providing and protecting their group first and foremost. But, the house still felt empty and unfriendly without him when Rick walked inside in the afternoon and started to get ready for Deanna’s party.


	17. There's a rumble in the floor, so get prepared for war

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pete is coming! But so are some good, happy sexy times :)

The party had already started by the time Rick got there. He walked in, feeling ridiculous wearing a pristine white button-up, hoisting Judith higher in his arms, making sure she was comfortable. He hadn’t planned on taking her at first, but then decided it would be a good thing. Those people were strangers, and there was no better way to melt their hearts a little, than to show up with his baby daughter. Besides, he could always use her to excuse himself from the celebrations if anything irked him.

It wasn’t that Rick didn’t like spending time with Judith - he _loved_ his little girl. But sometimes, there were days where he just felt better being the leader, making sure their survival plans worked out and that everyone was safe. On such days, it was easier to just get someone to watch Judy, someone he trusted to protect his baby girl with their life - in turn, Rick would protect all of them for the price of his own.

Stepping inside Deanna’s house didn’t make him feel any better. Thank god Carl and Carol were with him.

“Oh wow… Welcome!” Deanna’s voice greeted them as soon as they walked in, the hostess coming towards them with a huge smile. Rick liked it about her - even if the smile might have been appearing more often than what he was used to, at least it was genuine.  
“Hi.” Carol smiled back, handing over the dish she’d made. She had really gotten into her housewife role.  
“Oh, it's so good to see you,” Deanna continued, turning to all of them, one by one, greeting them all happily. “Hi, Carl! Thank you for coming,” She turned to Rick finally, her eyes immediately settling on Judith.

She approached her with soft gaze and careful hands, reaching out to touch Judith’s cheek gently. Rick smiled. There was something about Judy that made everyone weak in their knees…  
“You know, I didn't get a chance to interview this one..” Deanna mused aloud. “I envy her,” she added as an afterthought. Rick frowned.  
“Why?”  
“She'll get to see what this place will become,” Deanna answered, cooing to his daughter, before she focused her attention on Rick again. “Come. Come on in.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Rick could see Abe and Rosita walking in, hesitating by the door. He nodded to them, knowing just how they felt about such gatherings. Rosita threw him a look but nodded back and, to Rick’s surprise, Abraham did, too. After a short conversation, they finally wandered further into Deanna’s living room, making their way through the small crowd and to the table where beer was placed.

“You're Rick.” Rick turned, spotting an older man standing right next to him. He smiled politely, noticing Deanna leaning against the door frame, looking up at the guy with sparkling eyes.  
“Rick, this is my husband Reg,” she introduced her second half, still smiling, looking very proud.  
“You're a pretty remarkable guy,” Reg said, eyeing Rick with admiration clear in his eyes. Rick frowned, only now realizing that the man he was talking to was, in fact, an omega.  
“How's that?” Rick didn’t deem himself remarkable, not by any stretch. He just did what any other person in his position would.

“I watched the tapes,” Deanna’s husband explained. “All of them. The things those people said about you…” Rick winced, looking down. He didn’t know what his group thought about him. Sure, he knew that they liked him - they had to, if they were still together. But what they had actually said? He could only hope for the good things. After all, being an omega leader wasn’t the easiest thing, and he knew his reign was full of flaws.

“The things you did for them.” Reg looked impressed when Rick glanced at him. He breathed out a sigh of relief, a strange feeling of pride and satisfaction filling him.  
“Didn't you build that wall out there?” Rick asked, pointing at the window, knowing the man would know what he meant. Reg chuckled.  
“Yeah, I did, with help. _A lot of it._ And it's a damned incredible achievement, but…” he paused, making a face, “it's a _wall.”_ He added, chuckling again. Rick smiled.

“Fourteen lives… In this world? I think you have me beat,” Reg went on and Rick shook his head. Deanna laughed next to them.  
“Well,” she said, “we're standing behind that wall right now, dear. So let's call it a tie.”

Rick’s mind was suddenly stuck on how seamlessly those two fit together. She was a leader, a woman, with her omega husband, working together to create something for the future generations to live in. With a sad tug somewhere inside, Rick realized he would never have had something like this with Lori. They had never fit as well together as Deanna and Reg.

_Maybe with Daryl it would be different?_

Rick liked to think he had the answer to that already.

“Well, I'm glad you're here,” Reg said, raising an empty tumbler and presenting it to Rick. “Now, take a glass.” He prompted but Rick shook his head.  
“I'm good.”  
“You don't have to be,” Reg smiled, and there was something fatherly in that smile, something that put Rick at ease more than their little conversation ever could. It somehow felt as if he had been welcomed to a family, as if Reg’s and Deanna’s family welcomed _his own group,_ a tribe of vagabonds and asskickers to their home.

Rick laughed, nodding, taking the offered glass.  
“There you go,” Reg said, pouring him whiskey. “Welcome,” he greeted once again, and this time it lacked all the official air, instead seeming like a warm hug from a long-time-no-see friend.  
“Thank you.” Rick raised his glass, taking a sip and turning back to the crowd… just in time to spot Jessie walking in with her sons and husband.

 

-&-

 

Daryl stood just outside Deanna’s house. They had been out with Aaron, trying to catch a horse.

_They had failed._

But, upon returning, Daryl discovered something very important - Aaron wasn’t the usual, stereotypical alpha. He wasn’t rough, wasn’t trying to get his way no matter what. Daryl could work with that, _hell,_ he found himself _liking_ the guy, which was surprising as hell. What was even more startling, was Aaron’s ability to say a lot with just a few words. Daryl could appreciate that - he and Rick often communicated without words at all. He doubted he would have this kind of connection with anyone besides his mate, but the potential in Aaron was very promising for small conversations with huge meaning.

But now he was here, standing in an unfamiliar town, full of unfamiliar people, in front of an unfamiliar house. Daryl winced, seeing shadows moving on the curtains, people’s laughter making its way to his ears and wearing his nerves thin. He had enough socialising for one day, he doubted he would be able to go through more - certainly not with most of Alexandria squished inside a tiny, closed-off space.

Daryl thought about Rick inside, probably trying to keep up his game and being his charming self; about the alphas walking through the small crowd. _He almost walked in right then and there,_ fuck his own comfort and his violent, protective tendencies. But, Carol’s voice broke through the laughter. She was calling out to Abe, probably trying to get his attention.

Daryl smiled. _Rick was in good hands._

Deciding to take a shower and wait for everyone at home, Daryl walked back to the house they shared. It was just his luck that Aaron noticed him and invited him in for dinner.

 

-&-

 

“Hey, Rick, this is my husband Pete.” Jessie walked up to him with a smile, a man following her.  
“Hey,” Rick smiled politely, shaking the guys hand.  
“Good to meet you!” Pete replied, grinning in a way that reminded Rick of piranhas. The guy reeked of _alpha,_ his scent so off-putting that Rick had to stop himself from stepping back. It was strange. He stopped considering Abe and Aaron as potential threat after spending a day in their presence. _Hell, there were strangers all around him, some of them being alphas, and none of them pinged on Rick’s radar like Pete did._

“I wanted to thank you for taking on being our constable,” Pete went on, and Rick tried to stop himself from going back to that night just before the Terminus. “If we keep growing at this rate, we're gonna need even more.”  
“I hope so,” Rick answered, mostly to say something at all. He felt his throat going dry and his muscles tightening. He didn’t know why, but he felt something being off with this guy. The feeling only got worse when he opened his mouth again.

“You want to come by my office next week? I'll take a look at you,” Pete said casually, but his gaze had a very sleazy quality to it. Rick felt a cold shiver running down his spine, and it was only thanks to the crowd gathered around them that he didn’t feel like stepping away and getting out of there.

“And I probably should have said I was a doctor first,” Jessie’s husband grinned again, and Rick swallowed heavily, trying to clear his throat. He brought the glass of whiskey - his second that evening - to his lips and took a careful sip.  
“I think it sounded nice either way,” Jessie interjected, smiling innocently. Rick eyed her, then let his gaze return to Pete. He figured keeping the man within his sight for the rest of the night would be a smart move.

“I'm going to get us a refill,” Pete offered - _ordered,_ more like - and stepped closer to Rick, the piranha grin still firmly in place. Rick wanted to punch him.  
“Oh, I can do it,” Jessie tried to save the moment, obviously seeing how her husband leered at Rick, but was stopped by a short, barked out “I'm on it.” Rick watched him go, both glasses in hand, stepping away in search of alcohol.

“Having fun?” Jessie drew his attention back to her and he sighed.  
“Yes, I am.” Rick reckoned that playing along was the best defense right now. Besides, Jessie didn’t look like the happiest puppy in a pile right now, and he figured she could use a friend.  
“That's kind of a stupid question, right?” She amended with a soft chuckle, and Rick felt bad for her immediately.  
“No.”  
“Still,” she continued, looking around. “This place has a pretty amazing view.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah, take a look.” She nodded in the direction of the biggest group in the room - _his_ group. Noah, Abe, Glenn, Maggie… they were all sitting on the couch, laughing at something Rosita and Tara did together.

“Ordinary life like before… Well, not like before.” Jessie smiled, but there was a sad edge to that smile. Rick decided to ignore it.  
“No.”  
“Yeah, no.” She agreed with a frown. “I mean... I mean, it's better. Not out there, in here,” she said, rolling her eyes a little. “You know, everyone's been through it somehow. Everyone. And a lot of things disappeared,” she glanced down for a split second. “But a lot of bullshit went with it. They're all from totally different backgrounds, different places… They never would have even _met.”_

Rick felt a pang somewhere deep inside his chest. His thoughts went to Daryl, to how their relationship had started all those months ago. If not for the apocalypse, Rick would probably never have met him. Now? Now they were inseparable.

“And now they're part of each other's lives. They _are_ each other's lives,” Jessie went on, but Rick was barely listening to her. Suddenly, he wanted to get back home, back to Daryl, to the safety and love the hunter offered, to that strange thing they didn’t have a name for and yet needed it like the air they were breathing.

“I'm just saying... we all lost things, but we got something back. It isn't enough, but it's something.”

Rick had to agree with that. He looked to the side when Carl’s voice reached his ears. His son was talking about something with Jessie’s son and some other boys. He looked _happy,_ but, what was even more important, he looked _normal._ Just a regular kid, talking to his friends on a house party thrown by his neighbors.

Rick almost winced when he recalled the problems he had battled when it came to Carl, all those months before, when they still had the prison to call their home. His son had become so violent then, _homicidal_ even, and it had troubled Rick more than lack of crops or walkers at the gates. He could kill and he could steal, but he couldn’t watch his son fall apart and become a cold-blooded murderer. And right now? It felt so goddamned _normal_ that Rick wanted to take a photo and keep it for all the bad days that always came inevitably.

“Yeah, yeah, it's a pretty good view,” he agreed softly, taking another sip.  
“Mom, there's no more cookies,” a small voice caught his attention, and Rick looked down, spotting Jessie’s other son.  
“Well, I happen to know the cookie maker,” he smiled at the boy, trying to make friends. He had a feeling this family needed his help… at least the non-alpha part of it. “She's a good friend of mine.” He said, leaning in a bit conspiratorially. “And I might be able to see about her making a whole batch just for you,” he said, pointing at the kid playfully. Jessie’s son focused on his hand, however, turning to his mother with wide eyes.

“Mom, he doesn't have a stamp!”  
“Oh,” Jessie frowned, glancing at Rick’s hand.  
“Do you want a stamp?” The kid asked and Rick shrugged.  
“Sure.” He offered his hand, watching as the boy pulled out a comically big stamp and made a clear ‘A’ on Rick’s hand.  
“See? Now you're officially one of us,” Jessie smiled and he nodded, watching as the kid ran away to his brother.  
“I'll see you later,” Jessie said with apologetic eyes.  
“Yeah."

Rick wanted _out._

 

-&-

 

  
Much later, when Rick was just about ready to go, standing in a quiet spot and finishing his drink, Jessie found him again.  
“That's a pretty good view, too, isn't it?” She said, coming closer, Judith in her arms. “It's been a long time since I held one of these.” It sounded almost as if she was excusing herself and Rick frowned. It wasn’t her fault that she had a fucked-up husband and was living in a fucked-up world, after all. Rick knew the type… actually, he was almost sure that, come a few years, she would look like an Alexandria’s version of Carol.

“She and Carl,” Rick started, then cleared his throat. “They're why I'm still here. And I get what you've been telling me…”  
“What's that?”  
“Here isn't that bad,” he murmured, looking at her. There was more that he understood, but that was the cop in him talking, and he wanted to get off his job for today. It wasn’t why he was here, after all. Besides, he wasn’t sure if it would be a smart move to start anything here without Daryl on his side.  
“Do you want to take her?” Jessie asked when Judy started fusing.  
“Yeah.” Rick reached for her automatically, taking her into his arms and hugging her close.

On a whim, he leaned in and pecked Jessie on the cheek. It was something he had been doing with Beth, back in the prison. A friendly kiss on the cheek, a sign of familiar affection, something to tell the people he cared about just how important they were, to give them something for their troubled gazes and open hearts.

He had realized his mistake the moment he pulled away. Jessie blinked up at him, eyes wide, a small, stunned smile forming on her lips. Rick sighed, looking away when she walked out of the room, his thoughts circling back to Daryl.  
“Come on, girl,” he said, looking at his daughter. She yawned and pressed her face into his shirt. “Yeah, I think it’s time for you, right?”

 

-&-

 

When Rick finally got back home, Daryl wasn’t there. Rick was instantly alert, his mind busy thinking up horrible scenarios about how a simple recon in the woods could have gone bad, before he noticed Daryl’s crossbow propped against the couch in the living room. Eyebrows raising, Rick walked past it, intent on putting Judith into her crib and taking a shower.

Thankfully, his little girl was too exhausted to put up much of a fight, and fell asleep quite quickly. He stood over her for a moment longer, running his fingers gently through her hair, making sure she wouldn’t wake up, before he dragged himself to the bathroom.

_Where the hell was Daryl?_

The mystery solved itself about an hour later, when Daryl walked into the bedroom to a freshly-showered Rick.  
“Hey,” Daryl mumbled, shuffling on his feet. Rick eyed him.  
“You okay?”  
“Mhm,” Daryl hummed. “‘m sorry I didn’t come to the party,” he said, voice low, eyes focusing on the floor.  
“It’s okay. I know it’s not your thing.” Rick straightened up from where he was busy folding his pants. He cast a glance at the shirt, then decided to just leave it on the dresser. It wasn’t like he was going to use it anytime soon.

“Where were you, though?” He asked, sitting on the bed and covering himself with the thick comforter. He was only wearing a thin, ratty t-shirt and a pair of worn down boxers, and the chill of the night was making itself known.  
“Got invited over to Aaron and Eric,” Daryl explained, shrugging. “Gonna take a shower.” And with that, he was turning around and walking to the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click, making sure he didn’t wake Judith up by accident. The walls of the house were paper-thin, after all.

Rick sighed, running one hand through his hair. He was more tired than he was ready to admit - a night spent with people had sucked all energy out of him. Huffing out a small, irritated breath, he lied down, wriggling around until he found a comfortable spot. He could hear the shower starting and Daryl getting under it, the noise only slightly blocked by the door.

 _One day,_ Rick thought, his mind busy thinking up pictures of him pressing against Daryl in that shower, water cascading down their shoulders and keeping them warm.

_One day._

 

-&-

 

When Daryl got out of the bathroom and crawled into bed, he took his side and lied down on his back, hands behind his head. Rick had felt the bed dip and waited for the arm to wrap itself around him, cocooning him in promises of solidity none of them dared to say aloud. But the one-handed embrace never came, so Rick turned around. Seeing Daryl on his back, eyes staring up, gaze boring into the white, clean ceiling above them, Rick moved closer. He shifted and shuffled towards Daryl, not able to stand the distance between them, until he was pressed against his chest, knees folding under Daryl’s bent knee.

Rick sighed, snuggling into the t-shirt Daryl was wearing, one hand rubbing against the soft fabric mindlessly.  
“I got a job,” Daryl murmured quietly, not moving an inch. Rick frowned.  
“Deanna didn’t say anything about getting you one,” he commented.  
“‘t wasn’t her,” Daryl made a one-arm kind of shrug, careful not to dislodge Rick from his other shoulder.  
“Aaron?” Rick’s eyebrows rose in surprise, his mind connecting the dots faster than he thought it was capable of after the evening he’d had.  
“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed. “He wants me to recruit with him.”

“Why?” Rick asked, licking his suddenly dry lips.  
“He doesn’t wanna risk Eric out there,” Daryl explained, falling silent after that.

Rick understood that. He didn’t agree, he wanted to protest, but he understood the reasons Aaron had for asking Daryl to work with him. Alphas were the protectors. In time of war they were standing in the first line, weapons in both hands and ferocity in their eyes. But, every war ended finally, no matter the result. Alphas couldn’t just sit on their asses in time of peace, no… When war was well and truly finished, they sought out something else to do, even if just to make them feel like they were protecting their family. Some enlisted in the army, some found jobs as security guards.

Aaron wanted to keep Eric safe at home, getting him out of the harm’s way. He couldn’t recruit alone, though - in case something went terribly wrong, he needed someone there. Daryl, with his instincts leading him, with his survivalist wisdom and the courage in his eyes, was a perfect man for this job. And Rick knew his mate would like it, too - after all, Daryl wasn’t exactly an _indoor_ type.

“’m sorry,” Daryl whispered, and Rick leaned back, craning his neck and turning his head to look at him.  
“It’s okay,” he said, blinking up at the hunter. “I get it.”  
“Ya sure?” Daryl eyed him and Rick nodded.  
“Yeah. I know you’ll be good at it.”  
“Ya know it means that I’ll be out more?” Daryl asked then, hesitatingly. Rick could see how much he tried to keep his face neutral, but the mask was slipping. He knew just how fiercely loyal Daryl was, and he was aware that Daryl would stay and find something else to do if he asked him.

Rick propped himself on one hand, the other still placed on Daryl’s chest. The hunter focused his gaze on Rick’s fingers, watching as they traced mindless patterns into the soft fabric.  
“We can take care of ourselves in here, Daryl,” Rick said, trying to put his mind at ease. “You know that, right?” He waited for Daryl’s nod, before he went on. “Just promise me one thing.”  
“What’s that?”  
“Come back to me. Always.”  
“Rick - ”  
_“No.”_ Rick shook his head. “No playing hero out there, you got it?” He asked, levering himself off the bed and leaning over Daryl, their gazes meeting.

“Rick…” Daryl started, but he never got the chance to finish. The next thing he knew, Rick was diving down, smashing their lips together. It lacked any finesse, too sloppy and off-center, but the desperation behind that kiss lit up Daryl’s insides in a matter of seconds.  
“Shh…” Rick breathed against his mouth, one of his hands threading through Daryl’s hair. “Just promise me you’ll be back here at the end of the day. That’s all that matters,” Rick whispered. “I can deal with the rest.”  
“Okay,” Daryl gruffed out, reluctantly, and Rick knew that he would do what he could to get both - him _and_ Aaron - out in one piece, should danger arise. Hoping the other message had gotten through, praying that Daryl wouldn’t risk his life unnecessarily, Rick leaned in again, capturing Daryl’s mouth in a much slower, much more sensual kiss.

Daryl answered him with a hum, opening his mouth to Rick’s searching tongue, letting him do as he pleased. A few languid moments of careful exploration, and Rick was biting at Daryl’s bottom lip, coaxing him into doing _something,_ instead of lying there all pliant. The hunter sucked in a startled breath when he felt Rick’s canines nibbling at his lip.  
“Rick,” he warned, letting his own hands travel to Rick’s shoulders, sliding them down Rick’s back, until they settled on his waist. Rick pulled away, breaking the kiss, then sat up on his heels. He bit his lip, his gaze skittering over Daryl’s body.

It was like an uncharted territory to him now, something he wanted to see and touch… map out for later with careful fingers, listening to Daryl’s gasps and moans. His palms itched to be pressed against Daryl’s skin, his nose searching Daryl’s scent, and Rick realized that he wanted to _try_ with Daryl.

Slowly, Rick put both of his hands on Daryl’s stomach, absentmindedly tracing the wrinkles in the fabric of Daryl’s t-shirt. He splayed his fingers wide, hoping to encompass as much of Daryl’s flesh as he was able, rubbing his hands up and down, before he got bolder and slipped them under the tee.  
_“Rick…”_ Daryl breathed out, throwing his head back. There was a plea in his voice, something so ethereal Rick was almost afraid to catch it, in case he broke it.

He pushed the t-shirt up, baring Daryl’s stomach, the skin breaking in goosebumps as soon as Rick skimmed his fingers to the side. He licked his lips, thinking about kissing it. He knew he could, knew that Daryl would let him. Going by Daryl’s hooded eyes, staring at him, full of heated promises, he would even be _enthusiastic_ about it.

Not letting himself dwell on this any longer, Rick bowed down, shuffling his knees next to Daryl’s legs, until he could press his lips just above the waistband of Daryl’s sweats. His mate hissed and his whole body jolted, muscles jumping just under the skin. Feeling brave, Rick opened his mouth and licked a wide stripe just shy of Daryl’s navel, blowing on the spot just to kiss it again. Daryl groaned, his back arching, before he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it upwards. He sat up, too, one fluid motion that neary dislodged Rick from his abdomen, but somehow, Daryl’s body managed to curl itself around Rick’s head, while Daryl tugged his tee over his head and tossed it to the floor.

Immediately, there were fingers threading through Rick’s curls, not pulling, barely even tangling in his hair, careful and tentative, as if Daryl was too afraid to scare Rick off. Daryl’s other hand traveled over Rick’s chest, brushing lightly over his sternum, then skimming down, pausing at his stomach and pressing into it - a wide, hot spot, warming Rick through the thin material of his own tee. He hummed, kissing up Daryl’s abdomen and chest, directing his mouth to the side. He got a bit lost in sucking and nibbling at Daryl’s collarbone - the quiet sounds it dragged from his mate making him want to attach himself to Daryl’s body permanently, but he didn’t mind. Certainly not when Daryl rasped out a little “ _fuck,_ Rick,” that sounded ten times hotter than it had any right to.

Suddenly feeling bold, with Daryl’s hands being kept resolutely above waist level, Rick wanted to try something else. He pulled away only far enough to catch Daryl’s gaze, shivering at the heat he found in it. Biting his lip, Rick brought his own fingers to the waistband of Daryl’s sweatpants, slipping his thumbs underneath it, silently waiting for permission. Daryl nodded after a moment, his eyes fluttering closed when Rick pulled at the elastic, before he tugged it down, exposing Daryl’s cock.

It was hot and hard, already wet at the tip, and it gave a small twitch when Rick sighed, overwhelmed by Daryl’s alpha musk. He envied Daryl his self-control - going by the relieved exhale when Rick carefully wrapped his fingers around the length, he must have been hard for some time now. Rick wasn’t there yet, even though he could feel the warm pressure coiling at the base of his spine.  
“Christ…” Daryl huffed out, his mouth going slack, his back losing some of the tension as he leaned away a bit, propping himself with one hand behind him.

“Can I…?” Rick asked, squeezing his fingers a little, watching Daryl’s jerky nod. Gaze falling down, Rick adjusted his grip and slowly pulled up, listening how all air left Daryl with a shuddering groan.  
“Yeah, yeah…” Daryl gruffed out, licking his lips, the hand that was still on Rick’s side squeezing once, before it fell away, fingers twisting in the bedsheets. Encouraged, Rick moved again, running his fist up and down, twisting a bit when the hold became awkward. Daryl’s hips rocked up, his legs spasming once, then stretching out. Rick smiled and set up an even rhythm, watching his hand with weird fascination.

He hadn’t exactly seen Daryl’s cock before. Sure, they had seen each other naked enough times - even before the prison - that he could probably count all their scars from memory. But it was never like this, Daryl was never _hard._ And yeah, there had been that one time in the church, but it had all happened in a dark room, with a blanket over them, and Rick had been a bit preoccupied in that moment. Now though? Now he could run his fingers over Daryl’s length, squeeze them around the head and twist his fist at the base, reach out with the tip of his finger and smear the precome on the tip. There was a bit of loose skin right over where Daryl’s knot would be, and Rick thumbed over it, marvelling at how delicate it seemed.

But, even when he knew what he himself liked, he could only hazard a guess when it came to Daryl. Rick cleared his throat, glancing up at his mate, feeling himself blush.  
“Daryl?” He asked, his voice so soft he surprised even himself.  
“Mhm?” Daryl hummed back, eyes fluttering closed when Rick tugged a bit harder on the upstroke.  
“Show me,” Rick prompted, leaning in on a whim and pressing an open-mouthed kiss to Daryl’s bare shoulder. The sensation made Daryl’s whole frame quake, or maybe it was Rick’s words? He wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter in the end.

Daryl’s head snapped up, eyes focusing on Rick’s.  
“What?” He huffed out questioningly, a tiny frown creasing his brow. Rick wanted to kiss it away.  
“Show me what you like,” he explained, rubbing his thumb just under the head of Daryl’s dick, feeling proud at how his hips bucked up into the touch.  
_“Fuck…”_ Daryl rasped, but he untangled his left hand from the sheets and brought it to his groin. He didn’t push Rick’s hand away, opting instead to wrap his own fingers around Rick’s, setting a rhythm that was a bit faster. He kept the strokes light, not tightening their hold, adding a little twist at the head.

Rick was mesmerized. He let Daryl guide him, filing the technique away for later - _god, please, let there be later -_ focusing on Daryl’s body instead. He had a feeling he could get drunk on Daryl’s scent alone… This, combined with the way his muscles tensed and shifted, shadows playing along his skin until Rick felt dizzy observing them, was reward enough for biting the bullet and giving it a try. This whole fake-it-till-you-make-it turned out to be very rewarding, indeed…

And when Daryl’s spine arched and his mouth fell open on a too-loud moan, Rick felt it all in his own body, like an echo of Daryl’s pleasure reverberating through his cells.  
“Rick… Fuck, _Rick…”_ Daryl mumbled, surging forward, pressing their mouths together, his hand leaving Rick’s around his shaft, going instead to Rick’s hair and fisting there tightly. Rick moaned into the messy kiss, his scalp tingling when Daryl tugged at his curls a little, the sensation spreading down his back just to gather in his abdomen like hot coals.

He could feel his own cock getting hard, something still so surprising that he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Deciding to leave it for later, Rick focused on Daryl, on the tongue that swiped into his mouth and left him breathless, on the hardness in his grasp that was throbbing with the oncoming orgasm. Speeding up his hand, Rick started to twist it in a way he knew he enjoyed, hoping to make Daryl fall apart. Apparently this, combined with Rick sucking on Daryl’s tongue, was everything the man needed.

When Daryl came, he was silent. His mouth fell open and he gasped hotly against Rick’s mouth, muscles tightening and back arching away. His eyes fluttered closed even when he fought to keep them open, something Rick couldn’t help but reward with a few sweet kisses to Daryl’s cheek and temple. Feeling the knot swelling slightly - the careful stimulation nowhere near enough to make it expand fully - Rick kept on moving his hand, until Daryl hissed and grabbed it, too oversensitive to let him keep going. He didn’t pry it off his cock, however, not like Rick expected him to. Instead, Daryl wrapped his fingers around Rick’s fist, much like he had done earlier when he had been showing Rick what he liked.

Opening his eyes and looking at Rick, tongue sneaking out to wet his parted lips, Daryl deliberately dragged their hands up his length. Just once, just enough to make his hips jump forward and a small, gruffy moan to escape him.

Rick watched it - _felt it -_ with such utter admiration, that he was left breathless when Daryl finally drew his hand away from his spent cock. Rick didn’t know if it was the trust the hunter had in him, or the alpha presenting him his vulnerable side, but he couldn’t help but press himself against Daryl’s still shivering body, sending them both falling back down on the bed in the process.

Daryl landed with a small _ompf,_ smiling when he felt Rick nuzzling into his neck. He rubbed his hands down Rick’s back, pausing at his waist, before he traced the same path upwards. He could feel how Rick trembled at the contact, arousal making him twitchy. He was suddenly filled with an insane amount of pride - he did this. He managed to make Rick, his beaten-up and nightmare-hounded Rick, all hot and twitchy. Daryl wanted to do more. He wanted to bring Rick some pleasure, gift him with a moment of normalcy in the crazy world they lived in with the painful hand they’d been dealt.

“Rick?” Daryl prompted, rubbing his hands here and there. Rick hummed, kissing Daryl’s neck, evoking a small shiver that rocked Daryl’s body. “Can I…?” Daryl asked, one hand skimming to the side, settling on Rick’s hip. He rubbed a spot with his thumb, hoping Rick would get the message.

Apparently, he did, because his whole body tensed and he started to pull away, troubled eyes focusing on Daryl’s face for a split second, before he averted his gaze.  
“I… I don’t know,” Rick muttered, biting his lip. Daryl felt like smacking himself on the head. Here he had Rick, all pliant and hard - Daryl had felt Rick’s length prodding against his thigh just a minute ago - and he had to go and fuck it all up. Thankfully, Rick still seemed to be determined to see it through.  
“Can we… like this?” Rick asked, and really, Daryl didn’t even know what he _meant,_ but it _didn’t matter,_ because in this moment, when Rick’s voice was so small and unsure, he would do absolutely _everything_ Rick asked of him.

Nodding quickly, winding his fingers in Rick’s hair again, Daryl tugged him gently in for a kiss, trying to say without words what his heart meant. Rick looked as if he was ready to break it off, but he followed Daryl when he rolled them around a bit, placing Rick on his back on the bed, propping himself on his hand at Rick’s side. He kept kissing him, revealing in Rick’s scent, even more prominent now than a few minutes before.

Out of the corner of his eye, Daryl saw Rick’s hips shifting, Rick’s hand disappearing under the waistband of his boxers, before he moaned softly. _Daryl wanted to inhale that sound and live off of it for the next decade._

Wanting to help Rick in any way he could, Daryl pressed himself close, running his hand over Rick’s chest, fingers finding Rick’s nipple through the layer of the t-shirt he was still wearing. Daryl would love to have him undressed right now, but somewhere at the back of his head, a small voice reminded him that Rick would probably feel safer like this, so he didn’t comment. Instead, he scraped his nails over Rick’s nipple, eliciting a loud whine. Rick’s body jerked and Daryl started to smile, when he noticed just how tense Rick’s muscles had become.  
“Don’t,” Rick whispered, turning his head to hide in Daryl’s neck. The hunter frowned.

His hand was hovering over Rick’s chest and he brought it down gently, placing it over Rick’s side.  
“That okay?” He asked, getting bolder when Rick nodded. He traced Rick’s ribs with his fingertips, feeling mildly satisfied when Rick let out a shuddering breath and his hand started to move again in the confines of his boxers.  
“Yeah… just not,” Rick let out a resigned breath, “just not my nipples…”

His voice was so soft, so _quiet,_ that Daryl felt all his alpha instincts kicking in. He bent his arm - the one he used to hold himself up on the bed - and slipped it under Rick’s head, wrapping it around his shoulders and keeping him close.

 _Of course._ How could he not have seen it sooner? It was only logical that Rick would want to avoid touching the one part of his anatomy that spoke of bearing children. Feeling a bit bad for overlooking something so simple, but still determined to give Rick whatever pleasure he could, Daryl studiously avoided his nipples for the rest of the night. He ran his hand over Rick’s chest, slipping it under the tee and scraping his nails gently through the hair in the center, following it down to Rick’s navel. He rubbed at Rick’s abdomen, then let his hand slide to Rick’s back, mapping out his muscles.

It seemed to work, Rick’s breathing got heavy and he leaned back, placing his head on the pillow and opening his mouth to gasp quietly. Daryl couldn’t help himself - he dove down and kissed him deeply, twining their tongues together, stroking against Rick’s until he heard a stuttering groan bubbling up in Rick’s chest. Daryl ducked his head to the side, nosing along Rick’s throat and down, finding the bite mark he had left there. He licked over it, placing a sloppy, open mouthed kiss right over it, before he bit down gently, not enough to hurt, just enough to be felt.

Rick moaned, a long and shattering sound, before he went rigid against Daryl’s body. He jerked in place, muscles twitching, and Daryl didn’t have to look at his boxers to know that there was a wet spot forming on the front. He chose instead to watch Rick’s face, slackened in pleasure and so open, eyes scrunched shut and brow furrowed.

It didn’t take long for Rick to blink blearily up at him, a small smile playing on the corner of his lips. Daryl wanted to kiss them into a full-blown grin, so he did just that, molding their mouths together until Rick chuckled.

After they were done shivering and twitching, Daryl crawled out of bed and padded softly to the bathroom, coming back with a wet towel. He let Rick clean himself up, did the same, before he cuddled up behind him. Surprisingly, none of them had any nightmares on that day.


	18. Don’t go ‘round tonight, cause it’s bound to take your life

When Rick woke up alone the next morning, he wasn’t really surprised. He knew that Daryl was an early riser and he was quite okay with that. Sure, it would feel good to open his eyes just to be greeted with Daryl’s stormy blues, but he could live with how the things were.

He stretched, a small groan shaking itself loose in his throat, the feeling of his well-rested muscles making him close his eyes and wish for a few minutes more of sleep. But he knew he couldn’t have that, not today. They had scheduled a meeting - him, Daryl, and Carol - and it was in…

Rick glanced at the clock hanging on the wall.

_Ah. Fuck._

Reluctantly, he dragged himself to the bathroom, a hot shower on his mind.

 

-&-

 

It was early, and the forest still looked half-asleep. Rick looked around then nodded at Carol, prompting her to bring out the weapons she had stolen the night before.   
“You got them without any trouble?” He asked, taking his. Carol smiled and shook her head.   
“Nothing to worry about. Here.” She handed one to Daryl, but the hunter only looked at it, biting his lip.   
“Do we really need these?” He asked, looking from Rick to Carol. “I mean, things go bad, yeah, sure. We do what we gotta do, but it's like you said,” he levelled Rick with a stare.   
“We don't need these for that.”   
“Right now we don't,” Carol interrupted, pushing the gun into his direction, but Daryl took a step back.   
“You wanted me to try, right? I'm good.”

Rick eyed him, but nodded anyway. Daryl was the one always trying to protect them all, no matter the cost. Sure, they were all concerned about the safety of their group, but only Daryl seemed to be _livid_ when things didn’t go as planned.

“Why did you change your mind?” Rick asked quietly on their way back. Carol was walking in front of them, and while Rick knew she probably knew more than she let on, he wasn’t really keen on her taking a part in this conversation.   
“I wanna try,” Daryl mumbled, his eyes scanning the forest. Rick guessed it was either to find some game or to assess the possible threat. _Probably both._   
“That’s not all, is it?”   
“Nah.” Daryl shook his head. “I’m gonna be out with Aaron. We’re starting this afternoon. I’m gonna have a _legal_ gun then. You could use an extra here,” Daryl explained, giving up his woods-search. He glanced at Rick, then stuck his gaze on the path in front of them.

“I could kiss you right now, you know?” Rick admitted quietly, Daryl’s concern for their wellbeing making him breathless even after all that time they had spent together.   
“Later,” Daryl gruffed out, and to Rick, it sounded like a promise.

 

-&-

 

Upon returning to Alexandria, Rick had received something akin to a call on vandalism. He had been flagged down by Jessie as soon as she noticed he had been patrolling the streets. As it turned out, someone had demolished her owl statue. The last time Rick had seen it, the statue had already been pretty deformed, mostly from Rick walking into it. But now, it was completely broken to pieces, looking more like a pile of junk than the owl he remembered.

“What happened?” He asked, eyes taking in the metal pieces.   
“I don't know.” Jessie shrugged helplessly, picking up a few broken shards. “Maybe somebody doesn't like owls…” she said in a resigned voice. Rick frowned. The remains of the owl were skittered around in Jessie’s garage, not out there on her lawn.   
“Someone came in here and did this?”   
“Yeah,” She confirmed. “Stuff like this never happens here.”

Rick sighed. He remembered similar cases from when he had still been on the force, way before the world had gone to shit. He bit his tongue briefly, just to stop himself from laughing when he remembered the protocol.   
“Well, you got any enemies?” Rick asked, somehow maintaining a serious face. “You know anybody who hates owls?” It was so ridiculous, to be trying to solve the mystery of an owl destroyer when their lives were in danger in so many different ways on daily basis. “Too bad there isn't somebody who could look into this kind of thing…” he went on, finally letting himself laugh a bit. Jessie smiled, too, and Rick felt better seeing this. There was some kind of melancholy in her eyes that never really went away.

_Rick was sure he knew the cause of that_ _._

“I'll ask around.” He gave the sad remains one last look.   
“No, you don't have to.”   
“Yeah, I know,” he soothed, but Jessie was back to her skittish self, biting her lip and looking as if she might start crying, still holding a few broken pieces in hands.   
“Okay, so you find the person who did this and then what?” She asked finally. Rick shrugged.   
“Some kind of consequences.” _Probably my fist connecting with your husband’s jaw._

“You ever heard about the broken window theory?” He asked instead. “Boils down to this: you keep the windows intact, you keep society intact.” It was a very general summary, but it would have to do. Rick didn’t really feel like getting into the psychology of criminals and their morality in general.   
“This was an owl, Rick,” she eyed him skeptically. Rick nodded.   
“Yeah.”

 

-&-

 

Three rounds around Alexandria later, no suspects of the owl-killing in sight, Rick finally gave up and headed home. He knew that most of his group were out and about, getting the hang of their jobs or already working. Wanting to relieve Carl of his babysitting shift, Rick took off his uniform and changed into something more comfortable, before he went to his daughter.

It was two hours later that Daryl set foot inside the house. Rick was drifting off on the couch, Judith tucked securely between his chest and the backrest, exhausted after two hours of playing with toys. He heard the hunter shuffle through the house, before he came back to the living room. He crouched next to the couch, speaking in a low voice, not wanting to disturb Lil’ Asskicker.   
“We’re ready to head out,” he said.

Rick could feel how his heart sank. He knew that it was Daryl’s job now, and he knew that Daryl agreed to do it. He was well aware that his mate could take care of himself, but it still felt _wrong_ to let him go. They had been inseparable since the start of the apocalypse, parting only when absolutely necessary.

Suddenly, Rick felt angry at Aaron for giving Daryl that job. He was angry at Deanna for not figuring out something safer sooner. _He was angry at the whole Alexandria._   
“Rick?” Daryl asked, almost wincing. “What’s wrong?”

_Watching you go, that’s what._

Somehow, Rick managed to swallow that down. He shook his head softly, looking up at Daryl.   
“Remember,” he rasped out.   
“I promised, right?” Daryl leaned in, placing a sweet kiss on his lips. Rick almost whined when he pulled away. “I’ll be back.”   
“When?” Rick asked, swallowing.   
“Two days tops,” Daryl assured, getting to his feet and grabbing his backpack. He walked to the door, then turned to glance at Rick.

With a nod, he was gone.

 

-&-

  


An hour later, Rick was just finished with putting Judith to crib. He managed to lay her down gently without waking her up, which was a small miracle these days. Smiling to himself, Rick walked downstairs, his mind set on making himself a cup of the instant coffee they had been gifted. Apparently, Alexandria had a very good supply of it.

Before he managed to get even close to the kitchen, however, a doorbell rang, and Rick reluctantly went to answer it. He half expected it to be Deanna, informing him about another great plan.

He was pretty surprised when he spotted Pete standing on his porch, two bottles in hands, smiling that piranha smile of his.

“Hey, Rick, just having a beer,” he waved the bottle around. “Thought I'd bring you one for helping my wife today,” he said, side-stepping Rick and walking inside the house. He reeked of alpha mixed with alcohol, and Rick fought the urge to scrunch his nose. He curled his fingers into a fist.   
“Um, I'm good, but thanks,” Rick mumbled, trying to be polite. It was common courtesy, right?   
“Come on, don't tell me you're still on duty,” Pete laughed, positively leering at Rick, who almost took a step back.   
“Kind of always am, you know?”   
“Not at Deanna's party,” Pete observed, waving the bottle again. “I saw you. You had some, right?” He asked. Rick wanted to punch him.

“You know, I wish I could have helped out more today,” he said, trying to steer the conversation to a different topic. Maybe he would get the man to admit to breaking the owl? Rick was practically sure he was the one who’d done it. “I asked around, but nobody saw or heard anything.”  
“Well, it was just an owl,” Pete shrugged, taking a gulp of his beer. “In the grand scheme of things, I think we'll live.” There was this leer again, getting on Rick’s nerves.   
“Yeah.” He said, voice a bit more uneven than he would have liked.

“I'm sorry,” Pete said after a beat of silence. “Heard you lost your wife.”

Rick eyed him, his fist tightening, until he could almost feel the nails breaking the skin of his palm. This neanderthal had no right to mention Lori. Not when he beat up on his own wife. Rick knew all the signs, he had worked more domestic abuse cases than he cared to remember. It was all there, really, from the man’s sleazy smile, to his wife’s scared eyes.

“You know,” Pete went on, unaware of how close Rick was to gutting him, “I'm sure it looks like we haven't lost much, but we have. We've lost things. Other things we're just fighting like hell to hold on to,” he paused, taking Rick in. It’s a good thing he misinterpreted the set of Rick’s jaw. “Everything you people have been through... I don't know if you see that.”  
“We do,” Rick said soberly, nodding.

He just wanted this conversation over with and this guy _out of his house._

“Bring your kids in for a checkup.”

_The gods weren’t on his side today, it seemed._

Pete just kept on rattling. “I know I offered you one, but they really should come in.They were out there a while, right?”

_Right. As if I’ll ever let you touch any of my family, not to mention my kids._

“Yeah. Thanks, Pete.” Rick put on his best smile, trying to steer clear of the man’s smell when he leaned uncomfortably close.   
“Let's be friends, man. We kind of have to be, right?”   
“Yeah, we do,” Rick answered tightly, nodding, trying not to grit his teeth too hard. God knew dentists were hard to come by now.   
“So we will,” Pete clapped him on the shoulder. “I'll see you, Rick.”

He watched Pete leave, feeling his shoulder throbbing where Pete’s hand landed on it. Shaking his head, Rick went to the bathroom. After trying to talk himself out of it for a good half an hour, he finally took a shower, water rations be damned. _He needed to get the smell off him._

 

-&-

 

  
In the evening, Rick called it an early night. Most of his group was still out - Daryl included - and Judith was sleeping peacefully for once, so he didn’t think he would be needed again soon. He walked into the bedroom, intent on changing into his sleeping clothes, when he realized that his t-shirt wasn’t there. His ratty, washed-down tee was gone, and in its place, Daryl’s own t-shirt had been left. Rick stared at it for a long moment, carefully reaching out to touch it.

At first he thought Daryl must have grabbed his by mistake, but then he realized that Daryl probably wouldn’t bother to change clothes during a recruitment run. It was too much hassle and it was too dangerous, not to mention pointless.

Curious, Rick tugged the comforter away, smiling when he saw Daryl’s sweatpants. Rick’s shirt was still missing, and Rick realized that Daryl must have taken it on purpose. When he brought Daryl’s tee up, Rick finally got why. The worn-out fabric, so soft to touch, smelled of Daryl. The scent was comforting in so many ways, Rick didn’t waste any time tugging it on and crawling into bed. He pressed his face against the pillows and inhaled, long and deep.

_Daryl._

There was something about the discovery, about the _knowledge_ that Daryl needed Rick’s scent with him, which made Rick’s heart melt. He fell asleep with a smile still plastered to his face, whispering a soft ‘goodnight’ just before he drifted off.

 

-&-

 

Rick startled, eyes popping open, his head snapping up so quickly there was a painful stab in the back of his neck.   
“Wha?” He asked with a barely working throat, his voice deep and gritty, still filled with sleep. There was a hand on his shoulder, belonging to someone who was standing in front of him, and Rick frowned, blinking. The silhouette came into focus a few moments later.

_Maggie._

“Rick, wake up.” She shook his shoulder again, gently but firmly.   
“I’m up,” Rick rasped out, then cleared his throat. “What happened?” He mumbled, heaving himself into a sitting position, feeling cold when he had to leave the pillow he had been hugging against his chest.   
“We have a problem,” Maggie said, thankfully keeping her voice soft. Rick nodded.   
“Alright,” he ran a hand over his face. “Gimme a moment.”

He waited until Maggie walked out, then glanced at the window. It was clear that the evening had just started - a bit of orange still tinting the sky at the end of the horizon. Groaning, Rick got out of bed and started to change into his jeans. He had a feeling he would need his armor this time.

 

-&-

 

“What’s wrong?” Rick asked, as soon as he had walked into the living room. Maggie was sitting on the couch, elbows propped on her knees, a stern expression on her face. There was something sad in her eyes that Rick couldn’t quite place.   
“Glenn came back from the run,” she said, and Rick nodded. He stepped to the armchair standing right next to the couch and sat down, his gaze glued to his friend. Maggie bit her lip. She took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly.

“Noah is dead,” she almost whispered.   
“What?” Rick could hardly believe it. Sure Noah had been just a kid, but he was pretty competent when it came to survival.   
“Glenn… Glenn wants to talk with you,” Maggie explained, looking at him with her big, sad eyes.   
“Yeah. Of course.”   
“That’s not all.” She bit her lip again. “Tara is hurt. Not a walker bite, but we don’t know how serious it is…”   
“Shit…” Rick sighed out, scratching his head.   
“Aiden is dead, too…” Maggie added, looking down. Rick frowned.   
“What the hell happened there?” He asked, stricken. It had been an easy run, after all… or so had Aidan said before they had driven away. Now two of them were dead and Tara was wounded?

_Jesus._

“Where’s Glenn?” Rick asked.   
“Outside.” She said, sniffling, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her sweater. Rick got up, squeezed her shoulder gently, then walked to the front door. He opened it, shivered at the cold air of the evening, and took a step back, reaching for his uniform jacket. There was one of the extra guns, tucked into its pocket. Rick took it and pushed it behind his waistband, covering it with the jacket. Prepared like this, instincts going haywire, Rick went to meet his friend.

Glenn was sitting on the porch when Rick stepped out.

They talked - they talked well into the night. Glenn told Rick everything, from start to finish, and it wasn’t a pretty story. Deanna’s son and his friend had been reckless, and it had cost one of them life. It had cost _Noah_ his… And Tara was still unconscious.

By the time they finished, Rick knew two things. One: Deanna knew now that their way of doing things was bad, and two: Rick couldn’t talk to her yet. She had just lost her son, and Rick shivered, thinking about it. If he lost Carl… He couldn’t imagine it.

Watching Glenn go - Maggie’s arm wrapped around his shoulders as they walked slowly to their designated house - Rick had a feeling he wouldn’t get much sleep tonight. Wanting to calm himself down a little, he decided to go for a stroll. The air was crisp and Alexandria was quiet, and Rick hoped it would help him soothe his nerves.

_No such luck._

“Hey, Rick.”

_Pete._

Rick paused, eyes searching out the alpha. He saw him, looming in the shadows, his bulky form almost shapeless until a beam of moonlight fell on it. Rick gritted his teeth.   
“Rick.” Pete said again, stepping closer. Rick’s hand automatically went to the gun he had behind his waistband. And Pete wouldn’t _shut up._   
“You okay, man?” He asked with a scoff, his voice sounding like genuine concern. Rick wanted to punch him. Or better yet - shoot him. _Dead,_ preferably.    
“Keep walking,” Rick ground out, staring right at Pete. If the alpha stepped an inch closer to him, he’d make a use of that gun.   
“What? What are you - ” To his credit, Pete actually looked surprised. Rick didn’t say another word and just maintained the eye contact, positively _eye-fucking_ Pete, until he finally sighed and backed away.

At this point, even hearing him _breathe_ irked Rick.

Only once Pete was well and truly out of the picture, did Rick finally relax a little. He took a long inhale, then pried his fingers off the gun, _one by one._

 

-&-

 

Coming back home, Rick found Carol standing on the porch. He was tired, and he didn’t really want another conversation right now. He only wanted to go back to bed and deal with all this shit tomorrow… but, there she was, smiling sadly at him, before the smile fell away and something hard and desperate took its place. Rick frowned, then sighed, coming closer.

“I don't know if they can see it,” she said, instead of greeting. She looked to the side and Rick followed her gaze, only to see Jessie and her boys walking into their house, Pete remained seated in his chair, smoking and drinking. Rick winced. Carol went on as if she hadn’t seen it.

“How things really are. I don't know if they can yet.”   
“They haven't caught up,” Rick felt the need to explain, even though he knew Carol was only partly speaking about the fences and the walkers.   
“We have to be here…” She said with a peculiar kind of melancholy that Rick deemed too complicated to decipher at this hour. Instead, he agreed.   
“We have to.”   
“Yeah, we do,” Carol nodded, then looked at her arms, crossed at her chest.   
“But their rules, we don't answer to them,” Rick tried, but he knew that it was a weak attempt.   
“We are them, Rick,” Carol pointed out, sending him a look.

She was right, too. They had walked in here, and they had already sacrificed too much to walk back out. They couldn’t. They needed this place… but what was even more important, this place needed _them._ Without their group, without what all of them carried with themselves, _inside_ themselves, Alexandria wouldn’t survive for much longer. Those people were weak and they would either die out or turn to the dark side. And it would happen sooner rather than later.

“We are _now.”_ Rick agreed quietly, nodding to himself. It was why they were here. To be one, to _survive_ as one.

“Noah,” Carol mused, “he believed in this place…” Rick’s insides squeezed. Yes, he knew that. Noah had always been a bright kid… his mind had always been open and looking at the positive sides… Rick shook his head, a sudden lump in his throat making it hard to swallow.   
“I'm telling you, we gotta make this work,” he said seriously. Carol nodded, looking away again.

“I sent a casserole to Deanna's family.” She said, casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal. Rick wanted to laugh.

What good would a casserole do to a mother that had lost her son? If that had been Carl… An uneasy feeling, deep in the pit of his stomach, almost made Rick gag. He swallowed the bile down, a few horrible scenarios crossing his mind, before he blocked them out completely.

Apparently, Carol took his lack of response for what it was, and just went on.   
“Have you thought about Pete?” She asked quietly, but her eyes were hard.  
“Yeah.” Rick knew what this was about. He had noticed just how dangerous Pete could be… How dangerous he already _was._ Carol was always concerned about the weak in the group, and now that the whole of Alexandria was their group, it was only natural that she would revert to caring about them, too. _Especially when Pete was an abusive asshole._   
“Talked to Sam,” she paused, and Rick sighed. That was no good. If Pete was beating up on Jessie, then it was one thing. She was an adult, and adults had means of stopping something like that from happening. Sure, it was the apocalypse, and there were more important things to do… hell, it was probably a lot safer for her to just shut up and take it… still, adults knew the ways to defend themselves, even if they didn’t have the courage to use them.

But if Pete hit his kids…   
“He said his mom put a bolt on the inside of his closet,” Carol muttered. “Tells him to lock himself in sometimes and not come out till morning. He said he can hear his dad yelling, things breaking, his mom crying…”

Hearing that, Rick gritted his teeth. He should have killed that sonofabitch tonight, when he had had the chance. A clean job, one shot. Pete wouldn’t even have known what hit him. It wasn’t like there was a bunch of paperwork like in the old world… Rick knew that if he and Shane had stumbled upon someone like this back in the day, there would be fists flying. And yeah, there would be reports to write, and a disgusting amount of sweeping it under the carpet, but at least they would have been assured that the monster had learned his lesson.

“Last month,” Carol kept on, her voice getting lower. Rick couldn’t stop thinking it sounded _deadly._ “It got quiet right in the middle of it, and he went out and found her on the floor... unconscious, bleeding. Pete was just sitting on the porch.”   
“Why do you care what happens to Jessie?” Rick asked, actually curious. Jessie wasn’t one of theirs. She was an Alexandrian, and she was weak. Rick had learned, hell, _they all had learned_ that the weak died in the apocalypse. Weak weren’t useful, unless they were kids.   
“You know why.” Carol sent him a glance… a _stare_ , really.

Rick cringed, pictures of Ed coming to mind. He had always disliked Carol’s husband, even if he knew him mostly from Carol’s tales… and they didn’t really happen _that_ often. It was something Carol shared in quiet moments, when a thing or another reminded her of something from the past. She would talk about happy things, about people and happenings that brought a smile to her face. It would last for a moment, before her expression turned sour and she would make a comment on how Ed inevitably had ruined everything.

It wasn’t only the beating she had received from her husband. It was all the offensive words, all abusive comments and emotional blackmail she had been subjected to. It grated on Rick’s nerves every time he heard about it. Thankfully, Carol had been talking less and less about Ed, and Rick had thought it was the sign of her healing, letting go of the past. Now that Pete had emerged, all that healing went down the drain and they were almost back at square one.

Well, except Carol was taking none of his shit right now.

“If walkers hadn't gotten Ed, I wouldn't be standing here right now,” she said softly. Rick shook his head.   
“Yeah, you would,” he answered with all the conviction he felt. She smiled sadly at him when Rick put a gentle hand on her shoulder and squeezed reassuringly.   
“You look ready to keel over,” she commented, eyeing him, her face becoming serious once more. “Did you get any sleep?”   
“I was _trying to,”_ Rick chuckled.   
“Go. Sleep some. It’s late anyway,” she prompted. “I’ll check on Tara tomorrow. Hopefully she’ll be fine.”   
“Yeah. Night, Carol.”   
“Goodnight, Rick.”

They parted on the porch. Rick walked inside the house and directed his steps straight to the bedroom. He was too tired to undress, so he just shook off his jacket and plopped down on the bed, smashing his face into the pillows.

Inhaling, Rick smiled softly. Daryl’s scent was still there, lingering on the sheets and in the air, curling around him like wisps of smoke. Reaching out with one hand, Rick blindly found the pillow he had been hugging earlier, and pressed it to his chest, burrowing his nose in it.

He hoped Daryl would be back soon. It was too hard without him.

 

-&-

 

In the morning, when Maggie greeted Rick in his own kitchen with a big, brilliant smile, he knew that good news were coming finally.   
“What’s up?” He asked, turning to the counter, Judith in one hand, an empty bottle in the other. His daughter gurgled some nonsense, and Rick heard Maggie chuckle, before she replied.   
“Tara woke up.”

It was a good thing Rick could sit Judith on the counter - the flood of relief that hit him in that moment was almost paralyzing. He half-turned to send Maggie a happy smile, one arm securing Judy on the countertop.   
“How is she?” He asked. “Is she okay?”   
“She has a huge headache, a concussion to go with it probably, and something’s wrong with her arm, but other than that… she’s _fine,”_ Maggie grinned and Rick nodded, sighing.   
“Thank _god!”_ He breathed out, turning back to prepare Judith’s formula.

“She also confirmed Glenn’s story… well, the part of it that she actually remembers,” Maggie continued and Rick nodded along. “Eugene helped her,” she added, and Rick’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.   
“Oh… That’s a surprise,” he muttered. It wasn’t that he disliked Eugene… but cowards didn’t make it far in the end of the world, and Eugene was a prime example of that. Rick was aware that nobody was born a hero - one had to work hard to become one. But, being a coward and being proud of it the way Eugene was… it always rubbed Rick the wrong way.

It hadn’t come as a surprise when their whole group started to have their quiet opinions about Eugene.

“Yeah. He pulled her out of there, apparently. That’s what Glenn and Eugene told me.”

 _Of course Eugene told you that._ Rick snickered - one honorable deed, and the guy was already looking for an even higher horse to saddle.

“That’s good,” he said aloud, still snickering. “But you now, I’m glad he saved her life,” Rick said seriously.

He finished preparing the formula and gave it to Judy, before he started working on his own breakfast and coffee. Maggie joined and, in no time at all, they were eating sandwiches with tomatoes and drinking from two steaming mugs.

The rim of one of them was chipped, and Rick couldn’t stop smiling at it, though for the life of him he couldn’t tell why.


	19. No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a few chapters left! Thank you for all your support! <3

After eating a breakfast with Maggie, Rick pulled on his police uniform and wandered out. He was intent on finding Deanna and talking to her. He had to pass his condolences, even if he didn’t really feel like it - it was part of living in a group, and he had to do what he could to keep them all together.

Finding the Alexandria’s leader took him a little over half an hour. After he had checked in her house - and had a short talk with a very teary-eyed Reg - Rick wandered to the little cemetery Alexandria had. It was really just a part of a lawn behind a row of houses, a place designated for graves that were yet to come, rather than something that had been used prior. Deanna was standing in the middle of it, her arms wrapped around her chest, her head bowed.

“I'm sorry for what happened,” Rick said softly, walking closer. He stepped carefully, fully aware of the pain the woman must have been in. “How are you holding up?” He asked, stopping a few feet from her, waiting for some kind of reaction.   
“I'm not,” she stated, her voice calm. She looked… _washed out,_ for the lack of a better word. Eyes glued to the fresh grave, an expression of quiet despair etched on her features. Her short answer told Rick that she didn’t really want to talk about Aiden, so he tried to change the topic. There were plenty, but he settled on the most urgent for now.

“We have a problem with Pete,” Rick started, coming a step closer. Even the mention of this fucker’s name raised his hackles. Deanna sighed.  
“I hoped it'd get better,” she muttered, and Rick frowned, feeling his anger growing.   
“You knew?” He waited for the confirmation, which came in the form of a small nod. “It hasn't gotten better,” Rick went on, “it won't.”   
“Pete's a surgeon,” Deanna said, as if it explained everything. “He's saved lives. He might be saving Tara's life,” she added, looking at Rick for the first time since they had started talking. Her gaze was challenging.   
“He's beating his wife,” Rick opposed. “We have to stop it.”   
“How?”   
“We separate them,” he proposed. “We tell him that's how it'll be from now on.” Deanna walked closer to him, her eyes taking on that hard expression that Rick associated with her _leader_ side.   
“What happens when he doesn't want to do that?”

Rick licked his lips, his mind going back to all the domestic calls they had answered with Shane. This whole setting was eerily familiar, especially Deanna’s position as the classical concerned neighbor - she knew about everything, yet did _nothing_ to stop it. Rick felt sick.   
“It's not his choice,” he stated, tilting his head, feeling his cop training coming back full force. He had to keep himself in check, Deanna wasn’t the one beating Jessie up, after all. It didn’t mean that he didn’t want to shake some sense into her.   
“So what happens?”   
“I kill him,” Rick said, and it was more of a statement than a proposition. “ _We_ kill him.”   
“We don't kill people,” Deanna retorted, gritting her teeth. “This is civilization, Rick!”   
“Warning someone to stop or die... _that_ is civilized nowadays,” Rick tried to explain, his irritation raising. Couldn’t this woman _see?_   
“Oh,” she said, and there was a tone of sarcasm in those two little letters. It irked Rick to hell and back.

“So what? So we just let him hit her? We let him _kill_ her?” He asked, stepping closer, practically into Deanna’s face now.   
“No, we exile him if it comes to that.” Deanna stated, and Rick scoffed. _As if that ever helped…_   
“We do that, we don't know when he comes back and what he does to them,” he tried to reason.

It seemed like the old world all over again. Getting a call to domestic violence, putting the guy into cell… just to watch him walk out of there and do it all over again. Just… harder, messier, _more…_ Rick shivered.

“Letting him go makes this place vulnerable. You really want to wait till someone in that tower has to take care of it?” He pointed up, to where he knew Sasha was keeping watch over them. She had a problem and Rick knew it. He had been chased by enough demons of his own not to notice when someone was trying to get away from their own ghosts.

Looking back at Deanna, Rick continued.   
“And that's if we're lucky - ”  
“We are _not_ executing anyone,” Deanna interrupted him. “Don't ever suggest it again. That sort of thinking doesn't belong in here.” She eyed him coldly, her voice taking on an unpleasant quality.   
“People die now, Deanna. They _do._ There's times like this you can decide who and when. Or it can be decided for you.” Rick didn’t give up. Deanna nodded, but the ice in her eyes told Rick they weren’t talking about the same thing anymore.   
“It already was,” she said, calm as ever. _Aiden._ “I wouldn't kill you. I'd just send you away.”

And with that, she was walking away, not looking back at him. Rick didn’t dare to follow. He knew a threat when he heard one, and he could see clearly that it had been one. He stood there for a moment longer, looking at the fresh grave, before he turned around and marched back.

 

-&-

 

Rick couldn’t help himself when he directed his steps to Jessie’s house. He knew that there was little he could do with Deanna’s help - or its lack, thereof. He needed to find another solution, and this solution involved Jessie’s participation. He wanted to protect her, even though he wasn’t really sure _why._ Maybe it was because he still felt like the cop he had been a lifetime ago? Or maybe it was the reflection of Carol he saw in Jessie? Rick didn’t know, didn’t really _care,_ to be honest. He wanted Pete gone, because he was a threat to Jessie, to his own family, to their group, and to the whole of Alexandria.

“Jessie,” Rick greeted, pausing by her garage. She was sitting inside, smoking a cigarette, and the smoke reminded Rick about Daryl. His mate was still gone, god knew where, chasing the ghosts of hope for a better tomorrow.   
“Hey,” Jessie replied softly, turning around and putting out the cigarette. “I don't want Ron and Sam to know about those,” she said, standing up, looking far too troubled.   
“Well, your secret's safe,” Rick reassured her, waving it off.   
“Noah was a sweet kid,” Jessie started, looking down for a second. “But Tara, she's... she's in good hands with Pete.” Jessie nodded as if she tried to reassure herself. Rick couldn’t stand it.

“He's hitting you,” he said, stating a fact, but feeling bad doing it. Those things were never easy, and no matter how many times he had done it before, it never got easier. “He's hurting you,” Rick went on, hearing his own voice wavering. “It has to stop.”  
“It will.” She nodded again. Rick’s eyebrows raised, his expression skeptical. He had heard all that before. _Everything will change, it’s all good now._ And then he and Shane had been called to a crime scene.   
“How?” He asked, throat tightening at the images his mind provided.

He didn’t want any of this to happen to her. Thinking about this good, kind girl, so fragile even in the middle of the apocalypse - it made Rick’s heart ache. He wanted to protect her, keep her safe from all the bad things that were going on around her.

“There are things in his life that happened,” Jessie started, sounding like she was making excuses. Rick knew she was.   
“I don't care.”   
“Look, it was like this before and he got help. I helped him and things were good. I can fix it.” Good god, how Rick wanted to believe her. But the circle of abuse wasn’t broken so easily.   
“No, you can't,” he stated, walking a bit closer, still keeping his distance. “But I can.”

Jessie eyed him, a frown etched deeply on her delicate features. She shook her head furiously.   
“No, what... what can you do? What are you gonna do? You gonna put him in jail? You're only gonna make things worse,” she said, walking closer. Rick could feel panic raising in her, could see it in the way her hands shook at the periphery of his vision.   
“If it's gotten worse, it means he's killed you,” he murmured, but it still came out clear. “That's what's next. And I'm not gonna let that happen.”   
“Why do you care?” Jessie asked, and Rick frowned. He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. “Why is this so important to you?”

_Because nobody should go through that. Because you’re so much more than this asshole deserves. Because I’ve known a victim of domestic abuse and I ain’t gonna let it happen to you._

_Because I’ve been hurt, too._

“Now?” Jessie went on, stepping even closer. From this distance, Rick could see her eyes shimmering. “You've made it. You have a home for your kids... Rick, what are you doing?”

It was a good question, too. They had a roof over their heads and a secure wall at their backs. Why was he so invested in getting rid of Pete? _Because you’re scared of him,_ a small voice at the back of Rick’s mind told him. Rick gritted his teeth.   
“I'm trying to help.”   
“I don't know that,” Jessie bit her lip, looking at him with teary eyes. “I'm married. Okay? I can take care of myself. We have to take care of ourselves.”

She turned around and walked out, switching the garage door button on her way out. Rick took a step back to avoid being smacked over the head when it started to close. He stood there, paralyzed, until the door closed with a quiet noise, before he finally made his feet move.

Walking through Alexandria, Jessie’s words still ringing inside his head, Rick thought about what had just happened. Rick knew why Jessie had told him that she was married. After that misinterpreted kiss at Deanna’s party, it was plain as a day that she thought he was trying to flirt with her. The problem was, Rick wasn’t interested in her like this.

He had Daryl, and he didn’t want anyone else. He felt crippled without Daryl at his side, and he couldn’t help but notice how everything reminded him of his mate… Even _Jessie,_ when she had been smoking that cigarette.

Rick knew that after what had happened to him, a woman would probably be a smarter choice than an alpha. But it didn’t really matter - Rick had already loved Daryl a long time before they had finally gotten together. Nobody, not even the doe-eyed, fragile Jessie could change that.

But why was he so hell-bent on helping her then? Rick had thought it was because Pete was a danger to the whole town. When he thought about it now, he wasn’t so sure of this anymore. Sure, Pete could probably terrorize all of them, but Rick was well aware that his people could take care of themselves. He knew that when push came to shove, Pete would be lying on the ground, bleeding to death. And if he attacked any of the Alexandrians? _Would serve them right for letting him do what he does._

Rick gritted his teeth and marched on, looking to the side. And elderly couple - the same Carl had visited with Judith a few days before - sitting on their porch and laughing, talking about something with their neighbor. Kids were running around, one of them going to the little pond in the middle of the town and launching a toy boat on the surface. Rick paused.

They were all vulnerable. They were _vulnerable_ and _fragile_ , and this monster was still among them. They were as defenseless as Rick had once been - they could get hurt just like _he had._

The realization hit Rick like a ton of bricks. _He was afraid._ He was scared of Pete, the strong but stupid alpha, a man who abused the weak just because he could. It reminded Rick about Joe a bit too much - an asshole who had been getting his kicks out of hurting others. If Pete was untouchable in Alexandria, it meant that one day he would try and go further. Maybe kill Jessie… Maybe attack Rick’s people…

_Maybe attack Rick._

Swallowing through the sudden lump in his throat, Rick turned around, then strode back to Jessie’s house. He chose the front door this time, walking in without knocking, finding her in the kitchen. She turned, surprised when she spotted him, her eyes going wide.

“What are you doing?” Jessie asked, coming closer. Rick closed the door behind him, stepped forward, and tried to stop his voice from shaking. He had to get this right.  
“You know Sam asked for a gun?” He eyed her, seeing the shock appearing on her face. “To protect you.” He watched how her eyes misted over, her mouth opening, then closing when nothing came out.   
“You shouldn't be here,” she choked out finally, shaking her head. Rick went on, hoping to get through to her.

“Jessie, in here, you can't see it, but it's the same. It's the same as out there,” he waved his hand for emphasis. “We have food and roofs over our heads, but you don't get to just _live._ You don't get to put it off or wish it away, Jessie,” he ducked his head, trying to catch her eyes. She was crying, her cheeks wet, and Rick felt bad for causing it. But it was the truth she needed to hear finally.

“If you don't fight, you _die._ And... and I don't want you to die. I can... I can help you. I can keep you and your boys safe,” he soothed, taking a step closer. “I can. All you have to do is say yes.”   
“Would you do this for someone else?” She asked, wiping away the tears. “Would you do this for anyone?”

Rick fell silent, thinking. No, he wouldn’t. Not for just anyone. But, if they had been weak and fragile, he would. There weren’t many weak and fragile people left in this world, though.   
“No,” he said, taking a deep breath and shaking his head. “No.” Jessie looked at him for a moment, before she nodded.   
“Yes.” She murmured, and Rick sighed. _She had agreed at last._ Now they needed to form a -

“Rick.” A surprised voice reached his ears. _Pete._ “What are you doing here?” Rick turned his head to the side, eyeing him, only now becoming aware just how close to Jessie he was standing. Maybe it was his police training kicking in, maybe it was the world they were living in, but Rick found himself turning to face the alpha fully, slowly stepping around Jessie to shield her.   
“Pete.” Jessie said softly, her voice wavering. Rick could feel his muscles tightening.   
“What are you doing here?” Pete asked once again, coming closer, that sleazy leer appearing on his face once again.

_Rick wanted to punch him._

“Listen to me,” Jessie tried, stepping towards him, but was completely ignored. Pete was too busy leering at Rick, his canines glinting in the soft light inside the house. Fear mixed with adrenaline made Rick’s arms twitch, something cold slipping down his spine like a snake. He shivered.   
“I'm gonna have to ask you to leave, Rick,” Pete went on, still ignoring his wife.

Apparently, that was enough for Jessie.   
“No.” She stated bravely, closing her eyes for a moment as if she was expecting a hit coming. Rick’s heart squeezed.   
“Excuse me?” Pete turned to her, an incredulous expression on his face.   
“You need to leave,” Jessie explained, almost taking a step back. Rick came closer, his police instincts screaming at him to ignore his own discomfort caused by the alpha’s aggressive posture and his acrid smell, and to protect the victim.   
“What are you talking about?” Pete asked, disbelieving.   
“Just go, Pete.” Jessie sighed, shaking her head.

The alpha snarled, then turned to Rick, as if he only now remembered that he was still standing in the same room.   
“What have you been saying to each other? Huh?” He asked, walking closer. Rick felt sick just _breathing the same air._ “What have you been doing?!” Pete demanded, raising his voice. Rick shivered again, taking a deep breath.

“Pete, you and me are gonna leave now,” he said, as calmly as he could.   
“You come into my house - ”  
“Pete, you and me are _leaving,”_ Rick repeated, shifting his stance. He would drag that fucker out of here with his own two hands if he had to.   
“You're leaving right now,” Pete snarled again, getting into Rick’s space. He tried to eyefuck Rick into submission, but Rick was having none of it. Pete went on, straightening up, fully aware of his towering height.

“You think you're the law? You actually think you have a say in anything here?” He spat, hands jerking up as if he wanted to hit Rick.   
“Step back,” Rick ordered, falling back on his sheriff’s voice. He could feel the hair on the nape of his neck raising, his whole body thrumming with adrenaline.   
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Pete asked, spit flying.   
“Someone who's trying not to _kill you.”_

That was clearly it for Pete. Rick knew he was going to swing, so he wasn’t surprised. Ducking low, Rick avoided the blow, then sprang up to retaliate with a sharp right hook. Pete stumbled back a step, before he jumped Rick, this time grabbing his uniform and hauling him to the nearest wall. There was a shout of “No!” somewhere beside them, and Rick belatedly realized that it was probably the first time that Jessie had seen Pete attacking someone who actually fought back.

“You wanna stop now!” Rick warned, avoiding another blow and landing one of his own. It missed the target by millimeters, skittering to the side instead, and Pete used the window of opportunity, jabbing Rick in the ribs. The hit left him a bit breathless, all the air escaping his lungs, and Rick couldn’t really stop it when Pete pressed him against the wall.   
“Come into my house?!” Pete shouted, hands coming to Rick’s throat.   
“Pete, stop it!” Jessie pleaded somewhere in the background, but Rick was too busy to pay her any attention.   
“It's my house!” Pete raved on, hands tightening, almost cutting off Rick’s airflow. He knew he had to act. Deciding to attack, Rick threw one hand on Pete’s shoulder and tugged, forcing Pete to shift his legs not to lose his balance. It was enough for Rick, who stepped forward and pushed him across the room.

They tumbled over the coffee table and landed just next to a window. Rick straightened, Pete dragged himself up using fistfuls of his uniform, then aimed a blow at Rick’s ribcage. It was blocked - Rick had enough time to see it coming. Enraged, Pete took a step back, before he charged Rick with a snarl. The sheer weight of the angry alpha sent them both flying back, right at the window. Thankfully, Rick managed to turn around at the last second and use the momentum to push Pete through the glass first.

They landed on the street, still fighting, rolling around and landing punch for a punch. From the corner of his eyes, Rick could see Jessie trying to stop Pete, but it was no use. He just punched her with his fist until she stumbled, then continued to try and hit him. Rick blocked a few hits, then used a moment of distraction to roll them around, pressing Pete to the ground. The smell of alpha was all around him, but unlike Daryl’s comforting scent, Pete’s only made him see red.

“Dad, get off!” Carl appeared next to him, but Rick was too busy keeping that madman down, so he pushed Carl away, out of the danger zone. He was vaguely aware of Deanna shouting at them to _stop it right now._

He _couldn’t._

Not until he had Pete beaten up and in a chokehold, Pete’s feet scrambling on the ground in blind panic. Only when he stopped fighting back, did Rick ease his hold.   
“You touch them again and I'll _kill you,”_ he snarled at the alpha.   
“Damn it, Rick!” Deanna shouted. “I said stop!”

Disbelieving, Rick let Pete go, straightening out and grabbing the gun he had tucked behind his waistband. He never went without it these days.   
“Or what?” He asked, waving the gun around to keep the Alexandrians at bay. “You gonna kick me out?” He looked from one to another.

_Lambs._

_All of them._

Docile and fragile, scared of a little blood. _Scared of the asshole lying unconscious on the ground._ Scared enough not to question his behavior. Scared of life and the inevitable death it brought, wrapped in disease and illness.

“Put that gun down, Rick,” Deanna ordered, face stern. Rick chuckled.   
“You still don't get it,” he shouted. “None of you do!” He turned his head, making sure nobody was coming for him. They didn’t, too scared to move. Rick scoffed, but it came out more like a snarl. “We know what needs to be done and we do it. We're the ones who live!” He said, looking at Deanna. He was aware of something wet and warm trickling down his temple, but he didn’t really care right now. His whole face hurt in different places, little stinging points that would no doubt hurt, once the adrenaline high wore off. Shaking his head slightly, Rick went on.

“You, you just sit... and plan... and hesitate. You pretend like you know when you _don't._ You wish things weren't what they are. Well, you want to live?” He asked, his gaze jumping from one person to another. “You want this place to stay standing?” he waved his hand around for emphasis. “Your way of doing things is _done._ Things don't get better because you... you _want_ them to. Starting right now, we have to live in the _real world._ We have to control who lives here.” He paused, taking a breath.

“That's never been more clear to me than it is right now.” Deanna’s voice was so cold, Rick felt his insides freezing. Then, and incredulous laughter bubbled up in his chest.   
“Me?” He asked. “Me? You...You mean _me?”_ Preposterous! “Your way is gonna destroy this place! It's gonna get people killed.” He looked Deanna right in the eyes. “It's already gotten people killed. And I'm not gonna stand by and just let it happen,” he raised his voice, wanting to get the message through. “If you don't fight, you die! I'm not gonna stand by - ”

Suddenly, Rick was on the ground. He barely managed to stop his fall, before the world went dark.

 

-&-

 

When Rick came to, he was aware of two things - he was lying on a pretty hard mattress, and his head hurt something awful. He groaned, trying to reposition himself, before something weird registered in his brain… _Daryl wasn’t next to him._

_Why wasn’t he next to him?_

Rick frowned, opening his eyes, blinking in the half-darkness around him. His face stung in different places, and when he brought his hand up to find the cause, it twinged with pain, too. Looking down, Rick noticed that he was still in his clothes, although the police jacket and shirt had been removed, leaving him only in his t-shirt and black jeans. His hand was bandaged, and when he touched his face gently, his fingertips encountered quite a lot of butterfly stitches.

Rick rolled to his back and groaned softly, feeling all of his muscles throbbing in protest. He took a deep breath, looking at the ceiling, trying to remember what the hell had happened.

He had been talking to Jessie, trying to convince her to let him help with her husband… _Oh yeah. And Pete had come, too. Then they had fought… Oh. Oh!_

Rick winced, remembering his rant in the middle of the streets. He knew he had been waving his gun around… maybe a bit too threateningly. Then… _nothing._ Rick sighed, closing his eyes again. Why _had_ he started that fight? Oh, right, Pete was dangerous… As dangerous as Joe. Thinking about the last time he had been so blindly-mad at someone, Rick had to go as far back as the Termites. Just after that night spent in the train car, just after what had happened before that… Rick could still remember the all-consuming rage that had been pushing him to go after Gareth and his group. On some other level, Rick knew he had been afraid back then, too.

How fitting… so many miles after that moment, and it was as if nothing had changed. Rick couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him, a little, incredulous sound that came out completely mirthless.

“What's so funny?” A voice asked from somewhere in the room, and Rick jolted, jerking his head up and scanning the area to find the source. When he spotted Michonne sitting on a chair in the opposite corner, he chuckled again. _Of course. He needed a babysitter now._

“You were here the whole time?” Rick asked, even though he knew the answer already.   
“All night.” Michonne conformed with a nod. “What's so funny?” She asked again, face serious. Rick shook his head.

“It's... it's like the train car.” He mumbled, looking back at the ceiling. “After the whole thing, I'm still there…” He heard Michonne sigh heavily.   
“Deanna wanted you in here… to calm things down,” she explained, getting up, only to turn the chair around and sit a bit closer, leaning forward and putting her elbows on her knees. “Rosita patched you up. Carl came by for a while… I sent him home.” She reported, and Rick winced. He really didn’t like her tone - the patronizing quality it had reminded him about Shane a bit too much. 

“Rick. What are you doing?” Michonne asked, and Rick gritted his teeth. She must have taken his silence for what it was - a refusal to answer - because she went on after a moment. “We put Pete in another house... You could have told me what was happening,” she said calmly, but her voice still sounded accusatory. Rick winced.   
“It moved fast… and then _Noah..._ I couldn't tell you about the gun,” he shook his head in resignation.   
“No, you couldn't,” Michonne frowned, and Rick scoffed.   
“You wanted this place,” he reminded her. It was true, too - Michonne had wanted to be inside, to have the stability of a community.   
“We had to stop being out there!” She countered, her words getting an angry quality.   
“Well, we're here.” Rick opened his arms and swung them wide, sarcasm dripping from his words.

He couldn’t really see how being inside was better to being outside right now. Those people were idiots and were proving it time after time. It was getting exhausting. And keeping someone as dangerous as _Pete…_

Suddenly, Carol appeared at the door. She opened it a crack, slipped inside, Glenn stepping right behind her. Rick winced when the sun shone on his face unexpectedly. Carol looked at him, eyes full of sympathy, before she walked closer. Glenn kept his distance.  
“Where'd you get the gun?” Carol asked harshly. Rick frowned, thinking about a good answer. He knew that Michonne and Glenn didn’t know anything about their plan, and he wasn’t sure that telling them about it now would be good. Michonne seemed hell-bent on taking Alexandria’s side in this, and Rick bit the inside of his cheek not to call her out on that. Glenn… Glenn was probably looking at the town as if it was the ultimate chance for him and Maggie.

_Oh, how Rick wished Daryl was here._

“You took it, right?” Carol started to lead the conversation, _bless her._ “From the armory?” She asked, and Rick nodded. “That was stupid. Why did you do it?” She went on, looking at Rick imploringly. _Play along._ Rick shrugged.   
“Just in case.”

Glenn nodded in understanding, then looked at Michonne.  
“Deanna's planning to have a meeting tonight,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “For anyone who wants to.”   
“To kick Rick out?” Carol asked, eyebrows raising. Rick shivered. _Wouldn’t that be a joke? Getting kicked out for trying to keep this godforsaken town secure..._   
“To try,” Glenn confirmed.

“We don't know that,” Michonne protested, and Rick fought the urge to chuckle miserably. She believed in those people so much… It was almost disturbing.  
“Maggie's with Deanna right now. She's gonna find out what it is,” Glenn went on, his face serious. Carol looked thoughtful for a moment, before she spoke, too.   
“At the meeting, you say you were worried about someone being abused, and that no one was doing anything about it. You say you took a gun just to be sure that Jessie was safe from a man who wound up attacking you. You say you'll do whatever you want them to,” she said, and Rick shrugged, shaking his head slightly.

It was technically true - he _had_ taken that gun to keep Jessie safe… Jessie _and_ other people. 

“Just tell them a story that they want to hear,” Carol summed up, eyeing him, then throwing a glance in Michonne’s direction. “It's what I've been doing since I got here.”  
“Why?”   
“Because these people are children, and children like stories,” Carol said, and Glenn nodded.

“What happens after all the nice words they still try to kick him out?” Glenn asked, his eyes flickering to Rick, before they went back to Carol. “They're guarding the armory now.”  
“We still have knives. That's all we'll need against them.” Carol shrugged, and Rick nodded along. _They’d been in tighter situations, and they had made it out with knives and kicks._

“Well, tonight at the meeting,” Rick started, eyeing Carol. “If it looks like it's going bad, I whistle. Carol grabs Deanna, I take Spencer, you,” Rick said, looking pointedly at Michonne, “grab Reg. Glenn and Abraham cover us, watch the crowd.”  
“We can talk to them,” Michonne protested. She looked pissed off, and Rick fought the wince that was trying to appear on his face.   
“Yeah, we will,” he confirmed. “But, if we can't get through, we take the three of them and say we'll slit their throats.”   
“Like at Terminus?” Michonne countered angrily. Rick shook his head.   
“No, we just tell 'em. They give us the armory and it's over.”   
“Did you want this?” 

Rick fell silent for a moment, looking down.   
“No. I hit my limit... _I screwed up.”_ He waved his injured hand around dejectedly. “And here we are.”

He looked at his friends, taking in their faces. Carol and Glenn looked ready for a battle. Michonne just looked angry as hell… Rick suddenly felt tired. His face started to hurt again, probably because all of that frowning and wincing. He turned to his side and adjusted the pillow under his head.   
“Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm just gonna sleep some more.” He mumbled quietly, closing his eyes. A few seconds later, he could hear all of them walking out, closing the door with a soft click.

 

-&-

 

When Rick woke up sometime later, it was with Daryl’s name on his lips. He sighed sadly when he realized that the dream he had just had was only that - a dream. He had Daryl on his mind - his mate’s protective arms and his warm gaze, the way he whispered to Rick softly in the middle of the night just to chase a nightmare away.

Rick closed his eyes and snuggled into the pillow, hoping for a bit more sleep. He had a feeling he would need it later on, especially if he was expected to go to that meeting Deanna had set up, and do it without Daryl at his side. He wondered where Daryl was and what was taking him so long to come back… Hopefully nothing bad.

Rick was on the verge of sleep, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He startled awake, his whole body jerking up. Whipping his head around, he saw Carol sitting at his feet. Groaning, Rick rolled around and sat up, looking at her.   
“It's good what happened last night,” Carol said conspiratorially. “We have more cover now. All of them think you've been found out, that it's over.”   
“Why didn't you want to tell them we had more guns?” Rick frowned, looking down when Carol outstretched her hand. She was holding one of the stolen revolvers. Rick took it gingerly, turning it over and checking the cylinder. _Fully loaded._ He looked at Carol expectantly.

“Michonne stopped you,” she shrugged. “She knocked you out.”  
“Well, I deserved it,” Rick rolled his eyes. He knew that what he had done was stupid in the grand scheme of things. He had put not only himself, but their whole group at risk of being thrown out. _He should have killed Pete quietly, back when he had a chance, on his evening walk around Alexandria._   
“Well, it was stupid,” Carol concluded.

“She's with us,” Rick went on, meaning Michonne. “Glenn is, too,” he added after a second. Carol nodded, but her eyes still held that dramatic kind of seriousness which Rick associated with Carol’s battle-mode.   
“I didn't tell them about the guns just in case,” she explained. Rick sighed.

Again. Lies, lies, more lies… They should all be in this together, not apart. Doing something like this, _taking over a whole fucking town,_ required good communication, not going behind each other’s backs.   
“I don't want to lie anymore,” Rick said, almost whispering. Carol eyed him.   
“You said you want to take this place. And you don't want to lie? Oh, sunshine, you don't get both.”

And with that, she walked out, leaving Rick alone with his thoughts. Inevitably, they circled back to Daryl. Rick bit his lip and heaved himself up, groaning when his wrist protested the strain.

It was going to be a long day.


	20. I can't get off of this rodeo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pete finally gets what's coming to him! 
> 
> And there are sexy times :) 
> 
> Thanks for the continuous support, guys! <3

Walking the streets of Alexandria proved to be easier than he had thought. At first, Rick had expected to see an angry crowd trying to get to his throat as soon as he had stepped out of the little house they had locked him in. When he had actually done it, though, he had been met with the silence of deserted streets. Gritting his teeth, Rick had stepped forward, mechanically putting one foot after the other, intent on getting home.

On his way there, he met Tobin, talking to two other men he knew only as nodding acquaintances. Rick walked on, right between them.  
“Tobin,” Rick tilted his head saying this, and was surprised when Tobin answered him with a moderately pleased expression.   
“Hey Rick,” the man said in greeting, his friends nodding when Rick passed them by.

Maybe not all Alexandrians were as blind to Pete’s cruelty as Deanna had been, after all? Certainly not as apologetic.

 

-&-

 

“Dad!” Carl ran to him as soon as he had set foot inside their house. Rick smiled, opening his arms and hugging his son as tightly as his bruised ribs allowed.   
“Hey,” Rick whispered, pressing his lips to Carl’s head in a quick kiss. The smell of _family_ hit him so strongly, that Rick had to remind himself that Carl was a teenager, and being hugged by his dad for an hour wasn’t something that he probably wanted. _Even if Rick would be glad to do just that._   
“You okay?” Carl asked, as if sensing his father’s distress.   
“Yeah,” Rick nodded, letting him go. “Look, I'm sorry,” he muttered, looking down.   
“I heard about the meeting,” Carl said, and Rick jerked his gaze up. There was something eager in Carl’s expression, something that told Rick exactly what his son was thinking.   
“You're staying home,” he opposed. Carl deflated a little hearing this, but he nodded after a moment.

“That's what it is now, right?” The kid asked, looking hopeful. “Home?”   
“Yeah,” Rick confirmed, sighing. He knew that Carl wanted this place to work out as much as Michonne did. It was clear that he had found a bit of the old world within these walls, and Rick’s heart was ready to break into pieces when he thought about taking that away from his son.

Once again, Carl surprised him by just how well he knew him.   
“They need us,” he said, sounding like a grown up. The _alpha_ mannerism was positively radiating all around him, but Rick didn’t think it was something bad. His son seemed to be focused on protecting others… even if they hadn’t been their family, yet, Rick could appreciate the sentiment. He was well aware that Carl, still being a teenager, would quickly consider his new friends his pack. It wasn’t bad, quite the opposite - Rick felt proud to be raising such a strong and level-headed alpha.

“They'll die without us,” Carl went on, as if he felt the need to explain it to Rick further. His father nodded, then shook his head and looked down for a moment.   
“I might have to threaten one of them,” he muttered quietly, risking a glance at Carl. His son was watching him with the same unwavering trust as a moment before, but there was something dark crossing over his expression. “I could have to kill one of them,” Rick said, just to have all the cards on the table. Carl shook his head slightly.   
“You won't.”   
“I might.”

Carl sighed, sounding a bit resigned now.   
“You have to tell them,” he prompted, his big eyes staring right at Rick. _He’ll make a fine leader one day,_ Rick thought. Out loud, he said, “I told them last night.”   
“You have to tell them so they can hear you,” Carl explained.   
“I don't know if they can…” Rick shook his head again. “Does that make you afraid?”

The sole thought of scaring his son was unbearable for Rick.

“Just for them,” Carl said, and Rick let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “You have to tell them,” his son pressed and, resigned, Rick agreed with a nod.

_If he only knew how to do it…_

 

-&-

 

Rick spent the afternoon mostly sitting in the house. He had showered and put on a fresh shirt - his t-shirt had been a mess - then contemplated eating a dinner. He checked on Jessie, but she gave him a slip, so he got back home and stayed with Judith, until she fell asleep in his arms. He put her to bed, telling Carl to watch her, then went to get ready for the meeting at Deanna’s.

He was sitting in his room, looking down at the gun Carol had given him, when in walked Michonne. They talked, and that conversation settled him down. Michonne was on their side - as it turned out - and she would do whatever it took to keep the worst from happening. The worst being their family getting hurt, of course.

When she walked out sometime later, leaving Rick staring thoughtfully at his machete, his thoughts went to Daryl automatically. Michonne would be a fine alpha indeed, but Rick needed _his_ alpha. He had a feeling that something bad might have happened to Daryl. Or maybe something bad would happen on the meeting… Rick wasn’t sure, but he was certain that some kind of dread was hanging over their collective heads like a dark, rain-heavy cloud.

Sighing, Rick tucked the gun behind his waistband and walked out. He thought about checking in with whoever was on guard duty, about asking them whether Daryl was back already, but the gate was deserted. _It was also open,_ and Rick felt panic raising in him when he walked closer. There was nobody around, so Rick checked for possible trails. It was then that he noticed blood on the black tarmac and some flesh stuck on the door latch.

Cursing to himself, Rick closed the gates quickly, turning around and following the bloody trail, looking around for walkers. It was pretty clear that some of them must have gotten inside, and Rick began to wonder how it had happened. The biggest surprise was the open gate… maybe the walkers had been ex-Alexandrians? The guard could have thought that they had been coming back and opened the gate…

_What if it had been Daryl and Aaron?_

Rick shook his head hard to clear it, but try as he might, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about Daryl’s eyes being all pale and lifeless.   
_“Fuck!”_ He sighed, scratching his head and quickening his steps. He followed the trail until it disappeared in the grass, then turned into the first alley on his right. If nobody was panicking yet then it meant that the walkers must have gone unnoticed till now. With a sickening feeling deep in his stomach, Rick started to meticulously check every last nook and corner of the town.

 

-&-

 

One walker. _Just one._ And not looking like anyone Rick had ever seen. It was fairly fresh, still holding itself together more or less, and with enough strength to pull Rick down and pin him under its rotting body.

Rick gritted his teeth, trying to keep it away with one hand and reaching for his gun with the other. It was harder than he had thought it could be, the awkward angle making it even more difficult to reach for the revolver and aim it correctly. Angry jaws snapped right next to his nose and Rick flinched, finally getting the gun out and pressing it to the walker’s neck. He couldn’t risk missing that shot - Rick knew that the bullet would rip quite a lot of flesh out of the dead trying to eat him alive and, going by their position, the gunk would land right on his face. Aiming while blinded by blood and flesh wasn’t something that could be done easily, so Rick tried to think up a way of shooting the bastard with the first try.

Seeing no other way around it, feeling the give of flesh when Rick pressed the muzzle against the dead’s throat, he pushed, making the tip of the gun sink through the skin and half-rotten tendons. Sliding it as far in as it would go, Rick squeezed the trigger, closing his eyes at the last moment to avoid the gunk falling into them. The corpse on top of him stilled, then went boneless, and Rick threw it off with a grunt.

He couldn’t stop smiling.

_He didn’t recognize the dead face._

 

-&-

 

By the time Rick had finally gotten to Deanna’s place, the meeting had already been underway. He shifted the weight on his shoulder - walkers were surprisingly heavy for something half-rotten - and strode forward, walking into Deanna’s front yard. Everyone fell silent when they saw him, mouths and eyes opening wide. Rick looked around, then dumped the corpse right in the middle of the circle formed by Alexandrians and his family alike.

“There wasn't a guard on the gate,” he explained, looking Deanna straight in the eyes, daring her to challenge hm. “It was open.”  
“I asked Gabriel to close it,” Nicholas said, also looking at her.   
“Go.” She nodded at him, prompting him to move.

Rick shook his head. _Reckless. So fucking reckless._ _And what the hell was Gabriel thinking, anyway?_ He glanced at the people standing around - everyone was staring at the dead walker lying on the ground.   
“I didn't bring it in,” Rick stated, pointing the corpse. “It got inside on its own. They always will... the dead _and_ the living, because we're in here. And the ones out there... they'll _hunt_ us,” he waved his head around, indicating the world behind the walls. Everyone was listening to him, so Rick went on.

“They'll find us. They'll try to use us. They'll try to _kill_ us,” he paused, taking in the scared faces of the Alexandrians. _Good. Maybe they would listen finally._ “But... we'll kill them. We'll survive. I'll show you how.”

The group fell silent around him, eyes raised and mouths closed, expressions of hope mixed with fear painted on each and every face. Rick felt a surge of pride - he made them listen finally. Carl would be proud… Daryl would, too.   
“You know, I was thinking... I was thinking how many of you do I have to kill to save your lives?” Rick ignored the shocked gasps that followed. “But I'm not gonna do that,” he soothed. “You're gonna change. I'm not sorry for what I said last night. I'm sorry for not saying it _sooner._ You're not ready, but you have to be. Right now, you have to be. Luck runs out.”

Deanna looked as if she wanted to say something, as if she wanted to question his logic, and Rick could feel his hackles raising. He knew that she was the ‘alpha’ of this group and that her word was final. If he had to fight her on the matters of security, he would, but he’d rather she just went along with his reasoning. It would be so much easier. At least her husband had a more contemplative look on his face -

Rick whipped his head around hearing footsteps and an angry snarl.   
“You're not one of us!” Pete screamed coming closer, and Rick turned to face him fully. He took a few steps back when he noticed that Pete had Michonne’s katana in his hand. He glanced at his friends, but they were all frozen, looking at the madman. “You're not one of us!”   
“Pete, you don't want to do this!” Reg interjected, stepping forward. Rick reached behind himself, fingers wrapping around the gun hidden under the waistband of his jeans.   
“Get the hell away from me, Reg!” Pete pushed him away slightly, trying to clear his way to Rick. His eyes were wild and full of madness. Rick could feel the adrenaline starting to course through his system.

“Pete, just stop!” Reg tried again, but Pete ignored him.  
“Get away from me!” He tried to sidestep the omega, but failed. Deanna must have seen the danger, because she stepped up to her husband and tried to tug him away, but Reg didn’t listen. It was almost as if he was trying to protect the group - Rick’s group - from the raging alpha. Rick couldn’t just let him do it alone, he knew he had to act. He squeezed his fingers around the gun, intent on drawing it, when Carol’s whisper stopped him.   
“Not now.” She was staring at the scene in front of them, and it took Rick an embarrassingly long time to catch her drift. _She was waiting for Pete to slip._ Seeing as the asshole had Michonne’s sword in hand, Rick decided to act anyway.

Before he could do anything, though, Pete pushed Reg away with force, using both hands. It sent the blade swishing through the air, the sharp edge of it catching Reg’s throat. Immediately, Abraham was barreling into Pete, throwing the fucker off balance, while Michonne took the sword from his hands. Rick watched, helpless, as Reg fell down, his panicked stare landing on Deanna, who managed to grab him at the last moment.   
“No, no! Oh, no, no!” She wailed, hands scrambling on Reg’s neck, trying to stop the bleeding. Rick knew it was useless.

“This is him!” Pete sputtered. Rick dragged his gaze away from Reg and towards the crazy alpha, glad that Abe was keeping him low to the ground.   
“Shut up!” The ginger seethed, pressing a bit harder, making Pete writhe and try to break the hold Abraham had on him.   
“This is him!” He kept on babbling, trying to accuse Rick. Abe only snarled, keeping him securely immobile, giving everyone time to help the injured omega.

Except nobody moved. Rick knew there was no use. Reg was dying fast, and there was no power on earth that could stop a wound so big from bleeding… certainly not if the only surgeon in town was being kept under Abe’s crushing weight.   
“Oh, God! Oh, my love, my love...” Deanna sobbed, cradling Reg’s limp body, and Rick winced. It hurt to see the good, kind omega die like this. Pete should pay… Pete should pay with his own life. Not only for what he had just done, but for what he had been doing all along.

Rick dragged his eyes to Deanna, their gazes meeting.   
“Rick.” She whispered, he face a picture of utter despair. “Do it.”

That was all Rick needed. Two words… a command. _An order._

He turned around and drew his gun, pointing it at Pete’s head. He didn’t feel the least bit sorry when he pulled the trigger.

Jessie’s scream was short, and it died along with her husband. Silence fell then, filled only with the sounds of distant cicadas. Everyone was still, looking between Rick and Pete, taking in the blood seeping out from his head. Rick wanted to say something, to make them understand, maybe if he could -

“Rick?”

 _That voice._ Rick knew it. Rick had known it since the beginning of the apocalypse. He whirled around, blinking rapidly, not believing his own two eyes.

_Morgan!_

His long-time-no-see friend was standing at the entrance to Deanna’s yard. Rick’s heart leapt in his chest - he wasn’t alone… Daryl and Aaron were next to him, both looking at Rick with concerned expressions. Rick wasn’t sure if the feeling of lightheadedness he experienced in that moment was due to seeing Morgan again, or because Daryl was finally back, alive and well. He wanted to walk forward, throw himself into his mate’s arms and never let go.

Rick knew he couldn’t. Not with the whole town watching them… not after what he had just done.

That thought brought him back to reality. He looked down, seeing Jessie crouching down next to Pete’s lifeless body, looking at him with watery eyes. Rick couldn’t stand it. This fucker had hurt her more than anyone ever would, and she was still crying for him. Rick turned his head away, his gaze landing on Deanna, who was still kneeling over her dead husband. Spencer, Deanna’s other son, was standing next to her, looking at Rick with tears in his eyes. Rick knew that Reg would reanimate soon, that the walker would try to raise and eat them. He hated it, but there were things to be done. He was already opening his mouth to ask Carol about a knife - he hadn’t taken his with him - when he saw Spencer jerk his arm a bit to the side. Rick saw a blade, glinting coldly in the moonlight. He nodded, then looked back at Jessie.

Abraham and Michonne were next to her, trying to help her get up, but she clung to Pete’s body desperately. Abe raised his eyes and shook his head sadly, telling Rick with his gaze to just go. Rick listened. He stepped around the mess and towards Daryl, grabbing his mate’s arm and tugging him a bit to the side, just behind Deanna’s fence.   
“Home?” Daryl whispered knowingly, and Rick nodded.

 

-&-

 

They left the others to deal with both, the bodies and Morgan’s arrival. Rick knew his family was more than competent to take care of the situation and, with the Alexandrians finally seeing the light, he wasn’t worried. Right now he needed Daryl, so he quickened his steps to get to their house as soon as possible. The alpha didn’t protest, following him, grasping Rick’s hand only to wrap his own around it, keeping them close.

When they approached their house finally, Rick’s attention was drawn to a sheet of paper stuck to the front door with a piece of tape. They walked closer and Rick squinted his eyes, trying to read it.

_At the Millers’. Helping with moving. Judy’s with me._

Rick took the note and folded it, then opened the door. He wasn’t worried about Carl. He was a sensible kid, and he was more than capable of taking care of himself and Judith. Besides, the Millers were a harmless couple that loved kids.

Right now, Rick had more pressing matters at hand… For example, wrapping his arms around Daryl as soon as the door closed behind them, pushing his face into Daryl’s neck and just _breathing._   
“Ya okay?” Daryl’s gruffy voice asked, and Rick chuckled softly.   
“I am _now,”_ he murmured, tightening his hold on Daryl’s waist. “What took you so long?”   
“Got into trouble,” Daryl mumbled. He realized his mistake when he felt Rick stiffen against him. His mate leaned back, eyes troubled.

“How bad?” Rick asked, and Daryl shook his head quickly.   
“‘m fine,” he soothed, rubbing his hand up Rick’s shoulder, before he placed it on Rick’s neck. “‘t was bad, but we’re both fine,” he said, tugging Rick forward again, pressing their foreheads together. He could feel the air escaping Rick on a relieved sigh, but Rick’s hands didn’t stop their desperate hold on Daryl’s waist.   
“I should - ” Rick started, but had to clear his throat. “I should shower. Get the blood off…”   
“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, threading his fingers through Rick’s hair.

It took them ten minutes to move finally. They decided to take the shower together, not being able to part for long enough to go in separately. As they waited for the water to warm, Rick helped Daryl take off his clothes, leaving them in a pile in the sink. He frowned at every new bruise and scratch, pausing for longer over a particularly nasty mark on Daryl’s shoulder blade, right between two of his scars.   
“What happened?” Rick asked, touching the place carefully. Daryl craned his neck to look back, as if he could see the place.   
“Landed on mah bow,” he explained with a shrug. Rick kissed the bruise softly, wishing he could make it disappear.

“You found Morgan,” Rick said, stepping back and starting on his own clothes. With Daryl’s scent all around him, he felt comfortable enough to shed them without worrying about being naked with an alpha. Daryl was his mate, and he had finally come back to him.   
_“He_ found _us,”_ Daryl gruffed out. He turned around and helped Rick with the shirt he was wearing, unbuttoning it slowly from the bottom, while Rick went at it from the top. Once it was open, Daryl placed one hand on Rick’s side, touching a vivid bruise, exactly where Pete had caught him in the ribs.

“The hell happened to _you?”_ Daryl asked, nodding at Rick’s face, his gaze slipping over all the butterfly stitches. Rick winced.   
“I had a fight with Pete. Went through a window,” he answered, shrugging off the shirt and letting it land on the floor.   
“Pete?” Daryl’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”   
“He was hurting Jessie and his kids…” Rick swallowed, looking down. He stared at his belt for a moment, before he started to unbuckle it, trying to ignore how his hands shook.

After a few seconds of struggle, Daryl’s fingers wrapped around his wrists and tugged them gently away.   
“Did he…?” Daryl’s voice was a whisper, and Rick shook his head furiously. _Did he hurt you?_   
“No.” He glanced up. “No he didn’t…”   
“Wanted to, though,” Daryl pressed, and Rick found himself nodding. He closed his eyes and let Daryl take off his pants and underwear. When he was done, he took hold of Rick’s hands again, bringing them up and kissing his fingers gently.   
“Good thing he’s dead, then,” Daryl gruffed out. “Come on.” He turned and tugged Rick in the direction of the shower.

The water was warm enough to make Rick groan in delight and forget all about Pete in a heartbeat. They started to wash themselves quickly, but changed it to washing each other halfway through their shower. Rick couldn’t stand not touching Daryl after such a long time apart… the longest since they had met, really. Daryl must have been on the same page, at least going by the way he couldn’t seem to part with Rick’s shoulders and chest. Rick was sure he hadn’t been dirty enough to warrant a soapy massage, but he didn’t mind… certainly not when Daryl’s hands relaxed him better than anything.

By the time Daryl was done, Rick was ready to fall asleep standing. He admired his mate for so much strength - he had a whole recruiting run behind him, and still managed to wash Rick’s hair tenderly, _twice,_ just to make sure there was no walker gunk left in it. Turning around, a quiet “thank you” already on the tip of his tongue, Rick froze. There was no mistaking the hard shape that poked him in the hip. Daryl must have seen his reaction, because he angled his own hips away, his head dropping forward, until he could press his forehead to Rick’s shoulder.   
“Sorry,” he whispered. _Why was he apologizing?_ Rick frowned, opening his mouth to ask just that, when Daryl spoke again.   
“Just… ignore it. It’ll go down,” he muttered. Rick licked his lips, thinking.   
“What if I don’t wanna?” He asked, throwing a glance over his shoulder. He felt the full-bodied shudder that raked Daryl’s frame.   
“Rick…”

Rick turned finally, grabbing Daryl’s hand and tugging on it, shifting them around until Daryl had his back pressed against the wall of the shower. Water cascaded down over Rick’s face and he blinked it away, frowning, stepping closer.   
“Hey…” he prompted, leaning in and kissing Daryl softly. “I want it, alright?” He waited for Daryl’s nod, before he started to run his hands up and down Daryl’s stomach, listening to the sharp inhales coming from his mate.

Feeling bold, Rick let one of his hands travel up, hooking it around Daryl’s neck and keeping him close. His other hand slipped lower, and he wrapped it around Daryl’s length, squeezing gently.   
“Fuck…” Daryl cursed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. Rick used the opportunity to place his mouth on his mate’s neck, kissing and sucking on it until Daryl’s back arched. One of his hands came up to tangle in Rick’s curls, and Rick smiled into the sensitive skin he had been licking. He started to move his fist, slowly at first, quickly getting into a faster rhythm, prompted by small, bitten off moans falling from Daryl’s lips.

Every tiny noise of pleasure that escaped Daryl sent a shiver down Rick’s own spine, and he found himself getting hard, too. He pushed his hips forward, rubbing his cock on Daryl’s thigh, feeling himself getting stiffer with every press. The hand in his hair shifted, wet fingers sliding down until they cradled his jaw, and Rick leaned back, just to find Daryl looking at him, his eyes half-open but full of fire.   
“I missed you,” Rick said, as if he wanted to explain what was happening. Daryl didn’t seem to need an explanation. He dove in for a kiss, pushing his tongue into Rick’s mouth until Rick chuckled breathlessly, stroking their tongues together.

There was a desperate sound bubbling up in Daryl’s throat, and Rick drank it in, kicking up his pace on Daryl’s length, jerking him off with fast, sure strokes. There was no way Daryl could last like this, and he came with a quiet whine muffled against Rick’s lips, hips rocking helplessly. Rick kept on moving his hand until he felt the knot starting to swell, then wrapped his fingers around it and squeezed. If the way Daryl had gone all boneless and pliant against him hadn’t been enough to push Rick over the edge, the mewl he gave when Rick’s fist tightened around his knot certainly was.

With one last thrust against Daryl’s thigh, Rick came, moaning quietly. He let go of Daryl’s cock only to wrap both arms around his waist, holding himself upright when his knees threatened to give out. Breathing heavily, he tucked his face into Daryl’s neck, chuckling to himself when he realized what they had just done.   
“Welcome home,” Rick said, smiling when he heard Daryl’s amused snort.

Five minutes later, they were scrambling to rinse themselves because the water was turning cold again. After toweling off, they walked to the bedroom, feeling the exhaustion pulling them to bed like a magnet. Just after they were done tugging on boxers and t-shirts, Rick heard the front door opening and closing loudly. Carl’s voice reached them and Rick smiled.

_They had learned to announce themselves just in case. Being all silent while stepping into a house usually meant trouble._

“I’m back,” Carl shouted, his footsteps getting closer to the bedroom door. Rick glanced at Daryl, just to make sure they were both presentable. His mate nodded at him, sitting next to Rick, swinging his feet to the floor. In the next moment, the door opened and Carl walked in, Judith held tightly to his chest.   
“Daryl!” He grinned, and Rick could swear the room got a lot brighter than the two bedside lamps could make it. “You’re back!” Carl’s grin was infectious and Daryl smiled, too.   
“Hey kid,” he said. Rick was surprised Carl didn’t correct Daryl on calling him _a kid._

“How’s my Asskicker?” Daryl asked, glancing at a very tired Judith.   
“She’s alright. We’ve been helping the Millers move some stuff… I mean, _I_ was helping, Judy was too busy playing with them.” Carl looked down at his sister, who rubbed her hand over her eye in the way toddlers do when they are ready to go to sleep. “They wanted some of their stuff moved to the attic, so I thought I’d help them… you know, to be a nice neighbor and all…”   
“Good job, Carl,” Rick said, feeling proud. Carl nodded.   
“I’m gonna go, put her to bed. Night,” his son said, turning around and disappearing behind the door. Rick’s face fell.   
  
He sighed, running a hand through his hair.   
“My son’s already taking care of the people here… and here I am, murdering them,” Rick muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.   
“Yer keeping ‘em safe, Rick.”   
“We should be fighting walkers… not people.”

Daryl hummed, then tugged him down on the bed. He pulled the covers over them and pressed himself to Rick’s back, one arm automatically wrapping around Rick’s waist.   
“How did it feel? Ta kill ‘im?” He asked in a low voice. Rick shrugged.   
“Didn’t feel like anything.”   
“‘s alright, then,” Daryl gruffed out, kissing his shoulder through the thin material of the t-shirt, just shy of the bitemark. “Ya only gotta worry when it feels good.”

They fell silent after that - Daryl falling asleep, Rick biting his lip not to say that only the _possibility_ of that happening was enough to scare him shitless. In the end, he tired himself thinking enough to drift off.

 

-&-

 

When the morning came, it was with heavy rain and distant thunders. Rick tried to roll around, only to find Daryl behind him, holding him too tightly to allow any movement. Rick contemplated sticking his legs out to cool himself down a bit - he was feeling way too hot under the comforter - when Daryl’s hips shifted and Rick froze. Blind panic grasped his sleep-addled brain in the exact moment he felt Daryl’s hard cock pressing against his ass, right between the cheeks.

Rick jumped away as if Daryl burned him, tearing himself from the protective embrace and getting out of bed before he even knew what he was doing. Daryl startled awake, sitting up and looking around in search of a threat, one hand going to his crossbow that he had left next to the nightstand the previous evening. Scanning the room with bleary eyes, finding only Rick standing next to the bed, Daryl frowned.   
“What ‘appened?” He gruffed out, confused. Rick shook his head and sat back down on the mattress, hiding his face in his hands.

“Rick?” Daryl tried tentatively, reaching with one hand and placing it on Rick’s shoulder.   
“Nothing,” Rick mumbled into his hands, before he let them drop down to his knees. He looked at his feet, biting his lip. He knew Daryl wouldn’t buy it, and he appreciated that his mate didn’t push him, waiting patiently instead.

“I panicked, it’s all.” Rick sighed, rubbing his forehead with the back of one hand. He tried to focus on his breathing, to bring his crazy heartbeat back to a normal rhythm. Daryl was quiet behind him. Then a small _“oh”_ was heard. Rick winced.   
“Ya want me to go?” Daryl asked hesitantly.   
_“No!”_ No way. Rick turned around, lying back on the bed, facing Daryl. He grabbed Daryl’s arm and tugged him down, until Daryl got the message and stretched on his side, facing away from Rick.

Ignoring the strange tightening in his gut, Rick shuffled closer and spooned up behind Daryl. He was feeling too hot again, but he didn’t care. Feeling stupid for panicking like that, he slipped one hand around Daryl’s chest and made sure to hug him a bit tighter.

 

-&-

 

By the time he woke up again, Rick had become acutely aware of something strange happening to him. His stomach felt weird, there was an alien sensation of someone squeezing his insides, and he was feeling _too fucking hot._ He rolled around in bed, belatedly realizing that Daryl wasn’t with him - the bed was empty on his side. Frowning, Rick got up, gritting his teeth when his head swam a bit, then dressed up and wandered out.

He found Daryl in the kitchen, along with Rosita, Abraham, Tara, and Morgan. They were all seated around a table, and they turned to look at him when Rick walked in. The relief at seeing Tara among them - her head still bandaged, but her eyes bright and happy - melted Rick’s heart a little.  
“Hey,” he greeted, smiling at her. “You alright?”   
“Yep!” She nodded, grinning, and Rick went over to hug her, glad to see her alive and kicking. It was only after they parted that Rick became aware of the silence that fell around the table.

Surprised, he looked at the others, pausing when he noticed Abraham just staring at him with his eyes wide. Before Rick could comment on the shocked expression, the ginger alpha stood up, whispered something to Rosita and excused himself. Rick frowned, watching him stride to the front door. When it closed with a quiet click, Rick shrugged, taking Abe’s place at the table, glancing at Daryl.

The hunter’s eyes were boring into Rick, but Daryl shook his head quickly and tore his gaze away, focusing on his plate instead. Rick sighed, turning to Tara.   
“I heard that Eugene saved you,” he said, and Tara smiled widely, nodding again.   
“Yeah. Turns out, coward scientists are good for something,” she joked, and Rick snorted. _Yeah, at least that…_ Maybe Eugene would be of some use, after all. Who knew?

“Here,” Rosita pushed a fresh plate at him, and Rick took it. He grabbed the bowl standing in the middle of the table, smiling when he saw scrambled eggs inside.   
“Do we have chickens?” He asked, taking a spoonful and putting it on the plate.   
“Nah,” Tara answered. “Daryl found a hen running wild right outside our gates…”   
“Carrying a basket of eggs, huh?” Rick chuckled, forking his breakfast down.   
“Looked ‘round a bit,” Daryl gruffed, still staring into his own plate. “Wasn’t difficult or nothin’,” he shrugged. Rick frowned.

“What were you doing outside?” He asked, curiosity taking the best of him. After his last recruiting run, he didn’t like the idea of Daryl going outside unannounced.   
“We went to bury Pete,” Rosita explained instead, looking down at the table. “We didn’t want a killer resting inside the walls…” Rick nodded hearing this. He could understand that… hell, he actually approved of that idea. Alexandria was no place for abusive bastards like Pete and he would make sure there were none like him inside in the future.

Contemplative silence fell around them, everyone busy eating their breakfast. Rick tried not to stare at Daryl too much, but he couldn’t help himself. First, Abe walked out of there without a word, now Daryl was avoiding eye contact… Something was wrong. Rick frowned, pushing the eggs around on his plate. He didn’t feel that hungry. His stomach still felt weird and the tightening sensation low in his abdomen was only getting worse.

“Alright,” Rosita said suddenly, pushing her empty plate away and standing up. “I need to go, figure out what’s wrong with that damned car.” At Rick’s confused look, Tara jumped in.   
“It makes that weird kind of noise when you change the gear…” She explained, and Rosita nodded along.   
“I need it for a run tomorrow, and I want it in the top shape.” She glanced at Daryl. “Hey, you know something about cars, right Daryl?” She asked. “Wanna take a look?”   
Daryl shrugged, then nodded, eyes flickering to Rick’s briefly, before he finished his eggs and stood up.

In less than one minute, they had collected their things and wandered out - Tara in tow - leaving Rick with Morgan. The alpha looked at him with an unreadable expression, his eyes warm but still having that mad edge to them Rick had seen way back when they had met during the supply run. Morgan was an alpha, but he wasn’t a danger to Rick, not in the sexual sense, anyway. He had tumbled over the edge of madness when it came to his protectiveness, the guilt of losing his wife and son crushing him to the ground hard enough to drive him crazy, but Rick knew that Morgan wouldn’t attack him now.

He sighed, glancing down at his plate.   
“The hell was that about?” Rick muttered to himself, going back to pushing the eggs around.   
“What was _what,_ Rick?” Morgan asked, voice calm.   
“Abe… and Daryl. They acted weird…” Rick set the fork down and rubbed both hands over his face. “I hope they aren’t fighting over something…”   
“If they are, then that _something_ is _you,”_ Morgan said, chuckling. Rick frowned, glancing at him. _What?_ Morgan shrugged, looking down.

“You know how the alphas are with each other when an omega is going into heat…” Morgan said, as if it explained anything. Yeah, Rick knew that already, he was an omega, after all. With only one alpha in the room, things were quiet, with two or more… But, he wasn’t in heat. He _wasn’t…_

 _“Fuck!”_ Rick whispered, propping his elbows on the table and hiding his face in his hands. Suddenly, his body acting weird made so much sense. The overheating, the tightness in his guts… even Daryl’s insistent, too-tight hugging in the early morning with the boner involved. Rick knew that alphas couldn’t really help themselves when it came to that - when they were awake, they could certainly control themselves, but not when they were sleeping. The urge to rut against a nicely smelling, heat-warm omega was just too strong.

It also made sense that Abe had walked away as soon as Rick had appeared in the kitchen. The ginger knew his temper well, and he probably hadn’t wanted to cause an unnecessary scene. Daryl disappeared, too, and now Rick suspected that it was because Daryl’s instincts would have told him to grab his mate and drag him to the nearest bed. Daryl wouldn’t have done that, of course, but the morning would have been awkward as hell if he had.

“Fuck. I’m an _idiot,”_ Rick mumbled into his palms. He heard the chair scraping against the floor when Morgan stood up. There was a gentle hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly.   
“You should take a shower if you wanna go out there today,” his friend prompted, then walked out of the house, leaving Rick wishing the suppressants were still a thing.

 

-&-

 

Rick made the shower extra long. He scrubbed himself thoroughly, paying extra attention to his neck, where his omega scent would be most noticeable. It wouldn’t help for long, but it would at least take the edge off and give Rick an extra hour or so of flying under other alphas’ radars.

The heat became even more noticeable after the shower, the warmth coiling low in his abdomen and twisting his insides almost like a physical fist tightening around them. Rick tried not to let it get to him, knowing that he could probably get through it with minimal fuss. He dressed into a pair of dark, comfortable jeans and a worn-down tee. Wandering out, Rick directed his steps to Rosita’s place, knowing he would find his hunter there.

He wasn’t wrong. Daryl was lying under the car when Rick approached, Rosita and Abe standing nearby, discussing something with a map.   
“Gimme the flat one,” Daryl’s voice gruffed from beneath the car, and Rick smiled, grabbing a screwdriver lying nearby and handing it to him.   
“Here.” Rick placed the screwdriver in Daryl’s outstretched hand. Daryl froze, then crawled out from beneath the car, his eyes squinting in the sun as he blinked up at his mate.   
“Rick.” He said, surprised.

And then he was trying to stand, grabbing Rick’s offered hand and letting him pull him up. With a grunt, Rick levered him off the ground and smiled, when Daryl just kept on standing in front of him for a longer moment.   
“You okay?” Rick asked finally, tearing Daryl out of his strange trance. The hunter nodded, then turned to Rosita.   
“Ya may wanna take ‘nother car. This one’s ain’t gonna be good fer long.” He waved his hand, indicating the vehicle. Rosita sighed, then nodded, turning back to Abe. “Come on,” Daryl said to Rick, taking out his red rag and wiping his hands on it. “Wanna show ya somethin’.”

Rick followed him and soon, they were walking out behind the gates, armed with Daryl’s crossbow and Rick’s Python. They walked through the forest keeping an easy pace. Daryl tried not to focus too much on how deliciously Rick smelled. It was easier to do it here, out in the open. It was clear that Rick has showered thoroughly before joining him, but his soon-to-be-in-heat scent was still noticeable enough to drive Daryl crazy if he let it.

“Found t’is when we were buryin’ Pete,” he gruffed, leading Rick through thick undergrowth. They passed the line of trees and came to a stop by an edge of a cliff. Daryl waited for Rick to take the sight in.

It was an old quarry, easily stretching for half a mile in every direction. It was deep and at the opposite end of it, a beaten road was leading up, blocked by a few abandoned trucks and rockslides. Rick gasped, looking down, and Daryl knew exactly what he saw - he had seen it before.   
“Jesus…” Rick whispered, stepping closer to the edge, eyes wide.

The bottom of the pit was swarmed by walkers. Some of them definitely dead, probably killed during the fall from the tall cliff. But, a scary number of them was still moving, ambling around and forming a herd big enough to wipe Alexandria from the face of the earth.

“They’re trapped in there, look,” Daryl said, coming closer and pointing at two trucks near a large landslide. They formed a tight funnel through which even a single walker had troubles passing. Certainly not without a living bait running in front of him.   
“Is there another way to get down there?” Rick asked, gazing over the edge. Daryl tried to ignore his protective instincts urging him to tell Rick to step back. He still let his hand hover over Rick’s belt, just in case.   
“Nah, the only way’s through there,” Daryl nodded his head in the direction of the trucks. Rick whistled quietly, but Daryl could tell by his smell changing, that he was scared of what he saw. It _was_ a lot of walkers.   
“If they get out…” Rick trailed off, and Daryl hummed. He knew what would happen. They would probably go down the road… _Straight to Alexandria._

As they stood there and watched, a bunch of rocks started to slide from the opposite edge of the quarry, falling down next to a different set of trucks. The force of the rockslide was so big, it actually moved the trucks a bit to the side when it hit them.   
“We need to do something about it,” Rick muttered, eyes wide. Daryl nodded.   
“Should bring it up on the next meetin’ with Deanna,” he agreed. “They ain’t coming out anytime soon, but they will eventually… We need to be prepared.”   
“Yeah…” Rick nodded absentmindedly.

They turned around and walked back. Daryl watched Rick through the whole trip, feeling bad for making Rick look so troubled, knowing deep down that it was better that he knew about the walkers in the pit. His mate was worried, and this, in turn, made Daryl uneasy, too. He was sure they would come up with something, think up a solution that would work perfectly, but right now his mate was in distress and Daryl just wanted to calm him down.


	21. Command me to be well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rick's heat is here! :3

Walking back to Alexandria, they met Spencer and Nicholas at the gates. The two young alphas raised Daryl’s hackles, but he tried to control himself. Keeping Rick safe was his priority, and while Rick’s scent was slowly driving him mad with want, he knew that the two inexperienced men were a far bigger threat.

“Your gun!” Nicholas barked at Rick, as soon as they stepped through the gates. Rick tried to ignore him and walk on, but was stopped by an aggressive hand jerking him back by his arm.   
“The fuck!?” Daryl snarled, seeing this. He stepped between Nicholas and Rick, glaring at the younger alpha. _Nobody touched Rick like that._  
“He has to leave his gun at the gates,” Nicholas argued, huffing angrily. Daryl didn’t like his attitude. He continued to stare at him, challenging him to make a wrong move. Nicholas held his gaze stubbornly, even when Spencer put a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to make him back off.

“Here,” Rick said quietly, and Daryl whipped his head to the side, spotting Rick holding out his Colt. _This was wrong. Rick looked almost like a fallen king giving up his beloved weapon._   
_“No.”_ Daryl snarled, but Rick just shook his head to shut him up. He waved his arm up, prompting Nicholas to take the Colt. With a smirk, the young alpha reached for it.

But, instead of grabbing the gun, his fingers wrapped around Rick’s wrist. He pulled, jerking Rick forward in the process, until he lost his balance and stumbled closer to him. Nicholas used the close proximity to lean in and take a long inhale of Rick’s scent.

_Daryl saw red._

If asked later, he wouldn’t be able to recall exactly what happened, only that in a blink of an eye he had Nicholas - with a bloody nose and a swelling eye - lying on the ground in front of him. The young alpha scrambled back, then stood up quickly. He made a move as if he wanted to go at Daryl, but Spencer’s arm stopped him.   
“Don’t,” Deanna’s son hissed at him, and Nicholas finally relented. He stepped back, pressing one hand to his nose, trying to stop the blood flow.

Daryl was ready to give him a piece of his mind, but Rick’s hand appeared on his shoulder, and he let himself be steered away and towards their house.

Once inside, Rick sat him down on the couch and went to the kitchen, quickly returning with a first aid kit they had managed to put together. He knelt in front of his mate, reaching out and taking Daryl’s hand carefully in his. The alpha startled when he realized that his knuckles were open and bleeding.   
“Ya shouldn’t be out there…” Daryl muttered when Rick started to dab away at the blood. “Not until the heat ends. Alphas are dangerous.” Rick winced, hearing that. He thought about Abe and Morgan. _About Daryl._   
“Are you dangerous, too?” He asked, eyes focused on Daryl’s hand. His mate was silent for a long moment, so Rick kept on mechanically cleaning his busted knuckles, wrapping them in bandage once he was done with wiping the blood away.

“Rick,” Daryl whispered, prompting him to look up. Daryl’s gaze was so tender, so full of love, Rick was sure he could choke on it. “I won’t touch ya until ya tell me to,” Daryl said, his voice a low murmur. Rick nodded, then averted his gaze. He picked up Daryl’s hand and kissed the white bandage, before standing up.   
“I’ll take a shower,” he said, mentally cursing himself for wasting so much water just because his heat was about to start. It was so _pointless…_

He walked out of the living room and into the bathroom, intent on washing the scent off of himself. He didn’t know if it would do any good, but he was ready to try.

 

-&-

 

After he was done showering, Rick put on his clothes and wandered back to the living room, but Daryl wasn’t there. Carl informed him that his mate had gone out to talk to Glenn about _the_ _walkers._ Rick nodded, knowing what that had been about. He asked Carl about Judith, but the kid just smiled and told him that they both got invited to the Millers again, this time for a dinner, too. It was early afternoon, and Rick was aware that the invitation meant that Carl would probably stay there till late in the evening, shuffling boxes into the attic. He couldn’t say he minded, though. Carl was a good and responsible kid, and he was growing up to be a very caring adult. If he wanted to help the neighbors, so be it.

Telling him to keep an eye on Judith, Rick shooed them away, smiling at Carl’s excited expression. Having nothing better to do, feeling strangely tired, Rick dragged himself to the bedroom, hoping for a quick afternoon nap.

About two hours later, the sun was still shining brightly and people were walking out on the streets. Their laughter had woken Rick up, a child’s scream startling him awake in sudden panic, before he realized that whoever it was had been laughing madly, rather than calling for help. He sighed, rolling on his stomach, inhaling Daryl’s scent that was still lingering on the pillow. It made something sharp stab through his gut - a twisting kind of pain that burned him inside-out. He moaned, feeling himself getting hard in record time, fisting his hand in the sheets.

His skin was tingling, warming up with sparkling nerve endings, tiny shivers starting up slowly just to get blown out of proportions and make him tremble. Rick huffed a startled breath against the pillow, the air leaving him in a stutter. His whole body was yearning for something he was almost sure he couldn’t give it. Rick curled up, then stretched out again, shuffling on the sheets with awkward, jerky moves, gasping at every little jolt of pleasure that shot through him. Heat was making him far more sensitive than he usually was, and his instincts told him to rub his feverish skin against the bedding and his own clothes, use whatever friction he could get to ease the fire growing inside his abdomen.

He was too distracted to hear the door opening quietly.

 

-&-

 

When Daryl spotted him, Rick was lying on his front, his face pushed against the pillows and his breathing shallow. Rick was still wearing his clothes - a sweat-soaked t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans. Daryl stepped inside the room, closing and locking the door behind him, trying hard to ignore the smell in the air. Rick’s omega scent was so sweet and enticing, Daryl had troubles focusing on anything, except for his own cock and the way Rick’s lips were parted and pink against the pillows. His mate’s whole body was twitching against the covers - a mindless shifting motion that kept Rick shuffling against the covers. Daryl walked closer, seeing Rick turn his head to him. His eyes were dark, far darker than usually, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead, ending in a lone droplet slowly traveling down from his brow.

_Daryl wanted to lick it right from Rick’s skin. Catch it with his tongue and taste his mate._

“Rick,” Daryl whispered, _breathed out,_ really.

That single syllable of his name was loaded with emotions and full of questions Rick didn’t dare to untangle and examine. It was too complicated, too far away from his heated body and clenching muscles. Daryl held his hand out then, bringing it closer to him hesitatingly, almost as if he was afraid to touch. Swallowing hard, Rick reached blindly towards Daryl, his hand sliding along the mattress with a rustle, until it encountered Daryl’s fingers hovering just above the surface. Cautiously, Rick wrapped his own palm over those strong knuckles, molding it to fit the shape. With his grasp secure, he tugged his mate closer, waiting with bated breath, watching as Daryl bowed over the mattress right beside him.

Looking up, Rick almost choked on his own tongue when he saw the swirl of emotions crossing Daryl’s features. Determination, love, gentleness, lust - they all mixed and fused together, painting Daryl’s eyes dark and opening his lips on a gasp when Rick let his fingers skim a bit higher. He circled them around Daryl’s wrist, rubbing his thumb over one of the veins, just short of an accidental bruise he must have gotten recently. Maybe when he had been protecting Rick from Nicholas’ stupidity? The young alpha had certainly been trying to get a sniff of Rick, thinking he could have gotten away with it. Had it not been for Daryl’s protective streak...

Rick’s insides twisted again and he gave a pained grunt, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to breathe through the strange feeling. During his years on suppressants, he had almost forgotten what a heat felt like. He had had one - _tiny one_ \- back in the prison, but it had been so insignificant he had practically ignored it. Maybe his body had still been under some meek influence of the suppressants he had been taking before, maybe it was the fact that he was bonded now… Rick didn’t really know why, but it was suddenly unbearable.

It wasn’t even real pain - rather something akin to sharp tugging of arousal, something he had forgotten he could feel at all. It clouded his mind and whispered to him about mating, about hungry hands and wet lips. Rick knew it could probably push all the hurt from the past to the corner of his consciousness, leaving it there to lash out at him at the least opportune moment. He didn’t really care, though. His senses were hyper aware, his skin tingled where he was touching Daryl - nerve endings sparkling like fireworks, starting up a flame that pooled low in his abdomen and coiled there, expanding.

_Threatening to eat him alive like wildfire._

He wanted to curl up, ride out the wave of sensations that was seemingly set on overwhelming him, but he couldn’t. One second he was whining pitifully, the next, his mouth was covered with Daryl’s lips, a careful tongue slipping inside to taste him. Daryl’s weight settled on the bed and his hands moved, going to Rick’s waist first, rubbing along the hem of his t-shirt until it rode up a bit, revealing a sliver of soft skin. Daryl’s breath caught in his chest, stuttering out of him in quiet gasps, his fingers grazing just over the waistband of Ricks jeans. The little bit of flesh they encountered was so delicate, Daryl wanted to press his lips against it, lick and suck until it turned a pretty shade of pink, accompanied by his mate’s bitten off moans.

He paused for a moment, hands stilling, before he splayed his fingers wide, molding them to Rick’s sides, sliding them up and hiking his t-shirt in the process. Rick shivered feeling the sudden cold hitting his flesh, but Daryl didn’t pay it any attention. He went on, pushing the material up, revealing Rick’s quivering stomach and heaving chest. He traced the contours of Rick’s ribs with his nails - just a soft scrape, not enough to register as real scratching - before he grabbed the hem of the tee and tugged it over Rick’s head. It went up and off, and Daryl threw it to the side, before he looked at his mate.

He didn’t know how Rick managed to look so hard and soft at the same damn time. Rick’s muscles were corded tightly, his ribcage expanding with every breath, making the shadows play along the valleys of his chest. But the flesh covering it was smooth and satiny, almost vibrating with the fragrant warmth that Daryl needed to _taste._

Rick’s mouth fell open when Daryl attached himself to his chest, kissing and licking a hot trail over his shuddering body. He started at Rick’s collarbone, sucking a mark there, just a few inches from the mating bite. He slowly worked his way lower, scraping his teeth gently on Rick’s pectorals, remembering to avoid his nipples, making Rick moan and turning his bones to jello anyway. Just Daryl’s mouth working him over was enough to switch off his brain - a perfect mix of tongue and lips, sharp teeth and the apologetic sucks that followed them.

Needing something to anchor himself with, Rick pushed one hand into Daryl’s hair, threading his fingers through the overgrown bangs, tugging at them reflexively. He didn’t feel threatened, even when Daryl grabbed the little bit of skin just above his navel with his teeth and tugged on it, his canines scraping over the sensitive flesh, leaving it reddened and tingling. Rick knew it should have felt dangerous… Instead, he was quickly becoming boneless against the mattress, his body melting from Daryl’s careful attention.

“Rick…” Daryl’s gruffy voice reached him, and Rick dragged his eyes to him, frowning. Daryl paused and was just kneeling next to him, knees planted on the mattress, looking up in question. Then, Rick’s gaze traveled lower, and he noticed Daryl’s fingers hooked inside his waistband, thumbs grazing the button of his jeans. A silent plea hung between them - Rick’s not to hurt him, Daryl’s to let him continue.

Biting his lip, Rick nodded, inhaling sharply when Daryl unbuttoned the trousers and lowered the zipper in one smooth motion, then dove down and pressed his lips against the bulge in Rick’s boxers. Sucking in a deep breath, moaning at the sweet scent overwhelming him, Daryl dragged the jeans down slowly, kissing Rick’s hip bones through the material of the boxers. The air he exhaled was warm, but it still felt hot through the thin cotton, and Rick groaned, his hips rocking up sharply. Daryl ignored it and went on, crawling backwards and peeling the jeans off of his legs, finally pulling them off completely. He threw them to the floor, too, before he climbed back up.

Suspended over his mate, strong arms keeping him up, Daryl let himself drink Rick in. The picture in front of him was making Daryl crazy - his beautiful omega, all pliant and aroused, writhing mindlessly on the bed to get some kind of friction that would satisfy his instincts. Rick’s smell was enough to make Daryl dizzy, the promise in it painting inferno-hot images in his head, his brain overloading on thoughts about grasping fingers and scratched backs… thoughts about mating.  

Their gazes met, and there was something achingly vulnerable in Rick’s eyes, something that stopped Daryl short. He shook his head slightly, a meager attempt at clearing it. In an instant, Daryl felt bad for forgetting just how fragile Rick was.  
“Ya okay with this?” He asked, nodding between them, prompting Rick to look down. Daryl was still fully clothed, and the contrast between his dark trousers and Rick’s pale legs was startling. Their gazes meeting once again, and Rick’s eyes were so wide that Daryl almost reached for the blanket and called it a night.

_Almost._

Rick’s scent was still in the air, and the heat was still making it sweeter than sugar. His body was lying underneath Daryl’s, trembling slightly, hands splayed at his sides, ready to fist in the bedding. Daryl glanced down. _Rick was definitely hard._ The sight sent a jolt of arousal shooting up Daryl’s spine. Not breaking their eye-contact, Daryl raised to his knees, then slowly took off his shirt. It fell to the floor with a quiet rustle that they both ignored. The clothes were not important right now. Their house was not important. The Alexandria and the whole fucking world could go and fuck itself, because what mattered right in this moment, was only the two of them.

Daryl took a deep breath to collect himself, then leaned back down, seeing his mate’s shivering getting worse again. He kissed Rick, tenderly at first, then with more urgency, sliding his hands between Rick’s back and the mattress to hold him closer. It was becoming a real battle for Daryl - Rick tasted sinfully good, and his soft skin almost sang to Daryl to touch it all over. He tightened his arms around him, fighting the urge to thrust. His nature was trying to play tricks on him, and Daryl couldn’t let it. He wasn’t delusional - there would be no fucking for them. Not now, probably not in the future. It didn’t, however, stop his own body from seeking relief in Rick’s - not when he was rock hard in his own trousers, his dick throbbing with every soft gasp that escaped Rick’s mouth.

Trying to find something to direct his focus to, Daryl moved one hand, placing it on Rick’s stomach, dragging it lower, until it fell on Rick’s cock. Rick _froze._ Thinking he might have overdone it, Daryl started to take it away, but Rick’s disapproving groan stopped him short. He leaned back, blinking down at him, frowning. Rick had his eyes open, but only a little. He licked his lips, and Daryl felt his own body shivering when he heard Rick’s voice.   
“Keep going,” he said quietly. It sounded squished, almost choked out, and brought Daryl’s mind to all the moments when he had seen Rick battling his own insecurities.

When Daryl didn’t move, too stunned to do anything, still trying not to hump Rick into oblivion just to relieve some of the pressure, Rick acted. The movement was fluid, and had no right to speak to Daryl’s alpha side as much as it did - and yet, Daryl found himself fisting the sheets in a desperate attempt not to snap and let his instincts run the show.

Rick placed one of his hands over Daryl’s, pressed it back down until it wrapped around the shape of his length, then purposefully dragged them up. Daryl watched, entranced, as Rick arched his neck, throwing his head back, hips bucking up into their combined hold.   
“Fuck…” Rick sighed out, eyes fluttering shut when Daryl repeated the motion, this time on his own. He rubbed Rick for a moment - slow, easy moves - before Rick threw a lazy, moan-colored “shit” at him.

Daryl was beyond words. He couldn’t really find them, not with Rick looking good enough to eat. His omega, his _mate,_ presenting himself like _that,_ with his neck bowed back, Rick’s still hard cock throbbing slightly in Daryl’s palm, Rick’s full, plush lips open and his tongue peeking out from time to time, gliding wetly over them…

Feeling as if half of his brain ceased to exist, Daryl slid his hand higher up, grabbing the hem of Rick’s boxers and tugging them down. He felt guilty at the jolt of arousal that shot through his body when he saw Rick completely naked - from the fragile hip bones jutting out invitingly, to the stiff cock nestled between them. Daryl’s hand paused, fingers clenching around the boxers he held onto, a belated apology forming on his lips. But Rick, probably prompted by good memories from before the end of the world, helped him get rid of the last piece of clothing. He tugged the boxers down, then curled his legs up and took them off completely, throwing them to the side without care.

Groaning at the scent that hit him, Daryl looked down, feasting his eyes on Rick’s very pink, very hard cock. It was a generous length, and for a brief second, Daryl wondered if they could do something that would definitely go against their nature-designated roles - would Rick want to fuck _him?_ Finger him open, slip inside and thrust until Daryl was a boneless mess?

The thought came and went, leaving Daryl with trembling hands and twitching muscles. He stared at Rick’s dick, his mouth watering when he saw a little bit of wetness seeping from the tip, before he dove down and licked it away. He circled the head with his tongue, then traveled lower, dragging his mouth down the side of Rick’s shaft, before he tongued his way up again. He couldn’t help but hum appreciatively at the taste and the smell of his mate, sweet and fresh, musky with arousal coursing through him.

Rick’s back arched clean off the bed and he moaned - a long and broken sound. Daryl looked up sharply, his mouth still hovering over Rick’s groin, only to spot his mate’s wide-eyed gaze.

_Daryl was only a man._

Rearing back, he pawed at his own trousers, undoing them in record time. He took them off - along with the underwear - and pushed them to the floor without care. Falling back over Rick, propping himself on his hands placed on both sides of Rick’s head, Daryl looked down. There was something uneasy in Rick’s gaze, his smell had a tone of panic to it again, and Daryl leaned down, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss.   
“Trust me?” He asked, breaking them apart after a moment. Rick nodded.   
“Always,” he whispered, so quietly Daryl would have missed it, if it hadn’t been murmured millimeters from his own mouth.

Slowly, Daryl lowered himself between Rick’s thighs, keeping most of his weight on his elbows, pressing their hips together. The skin-to-skin contact was electric, and they both inhaled sharply feeling the connection. Rick’s hands shot to Daryl’s sides - to push him away or keep him close, Daryl didn’t know. It didn’t really matter, anyway, because in the next moment, he rocked his hips forward experimentally, bringing a small but pleased moan out of Rick. Daryl smiled, did it again, a tiny shove of his hips, their cocks rubbing together between their bellies, the friction enough to send sparkles of sensation through them.

“God…” Rick groaned out, hands finally sliding higher, arms wrapping around Daryl’s chest. The sensations were good, Daryl’s body heavy over his, but not threatening. He knew that the instinct to thrust would be strong in Daryl - Rick’s own scent making his mate think about breeding. He also knew that Daryl wouldn’t do anything even close to actually fucking him. At the mental picture of it, Rick’s insides twisted again and he let out a whine, his heat demanding something he couldn’t give. His ass clenched around nothing, and a wave of panic caused by the eagerness of his own body seized Rick. Trembling, using Daryl’s shoulders for leverage, Rick bucked his hips up, hoping he could trick his system, even if only to take the edge off.

Sensing that, Daryl bowed down, hiding his face into Rick’s neck, licking and nibbling on the skin as he went. He found a perfect little spot, just over the collarbone, and sucked on it. Rick shuddered, feeling way too sensitive not to react, every tiniest touch of Daryl’s lips registering like an open-mouthed kiss. Daryl’s tongue left a trail that seemed scorching hot, even when the saliva cooled it right after. Pleasure coiled somewhere deep in his gut, and Rick hiked his legs behind Daryl’s ass, prompting him to move a bit harder. He couldn’t help it, really. The heat was filling his head with cotton, and Rick felt dizzy with it.

The alpha in Daryl must have been in charge finally, for Daryl’s hand appeared on Rick’s thigh, pushing it even higher, _opening him,_ while Daryl started to thrust with more power, every move sliding their lengths together. They were both leaking by now so the friction eased off a bit, becoming something maddeningly good - maddening enough to make Daryl’s hand slip and land on Rick’s ass.

Rick froze, panic clawing its way up his spine when he felt one of Daryl’s fingers touching his opening, the slickness that had started to gather there smearing around.   
_“Daryl!”_ Rick almost choked on the name, his throat tightening, fingers digging into Daryl’s shoulders. His mate didn’t stop his thrusts, however. Every heated slide of their lengths vibrated pleasure right through Rick’s bones, but it wasn’t enough to drown out Daryl’s fingertip slipping through the wet mess at his entrance. Rick heaved in a shaky breath, fighting the distressed sound that tried to escape. He failed.

“Rick… I won’t…” Daryl rasped, and Rick shivered, hearing the gruffiness in his voice. It was more like a scratchy rumble, reverberating through Rick’s chest, scraping through his own insides, until Rick’s vision blurred with it. His body was torn between twisting away and pushing up for more, and he was left in the midst of it, gasping and trembling helplessly.

Daryl went on, still moving. “I won’t… _fuck!_ Just like… just like _this._ ‘kay? Rick, _just like this…_ ” He mumbled desperately into Rick’s neck, but his hand didn’t move anywhere. He used the grip he had on Rick’s ass to hitch his hips up, aligning them in a better way, creating more pressure between their bodies. “Trust me, ‘kay? Just like this…” His words trailed off into a quiet mantra, until they all jumbled together, creating a lulling murmur. It was soothing in its own way, letting Rick collect himself a bit. Daryl’s finger stayed where it was, his whole palm clenched tightly on Rick’s cheek.

The hold on his ass didn’t ease up, and Rick felt sick when his own muscles twitched, his ass clenching in anticipation of a heat-induced fuck that would never come. But Daryl remained how he was, moving steadily over him, rubbing them together with an animalistic intent of getting off. He never tried to get inside Rick’s ass, he never attempted to push the finger in, never even moved it, apart from an accidental jerk that rocked both of their bodies.

Rick felt his panic ebbing away, his brain catching up with what Daryl was doing. Working hard to breathe normally again, Rick unclenched his hands, running his fingers over the indents he could feel he had left in Daryl’s skin. Daryl moaned at that, hips jumping forward, shoving against Rick’s, before he increased the rhythm. Rick knew that Daryl was close. It was all there - in the way he sounded, in the way his muscles twitched, in the raising urgency of his thrusts… Surprisingly, Rick felt his own climax approaching, too. The pleasure that seemed to seep from Daryl’s body - and right into his own - left Rick breathless once again. The lips on his neck migrated higher, landing right next to his ear, and Daryl’s mindless litany of _Ricks_ and _fucks_ made his skin tingle all over.

When that quiet, desperate prayer was broken by three different words, Rick’s mind went blank. A frantically whispered _I love you,_ and Rick was coming, whining when the pleasure finally overrode the sharp tugs of heat, wiping out his brain and vision. The release bowed his spine and lit up his nerve endings, burning them all at once. Rick felt as if he was going to fall apart, so he clung to Daryl, curling up and hiding in his neck, immersing himself in the alpha smell until nothing else existed in the world.

Coming down slowly, still in a daze, Rick realized that Daryl had stopped moving over him, both hands jammed under Rick’s shoulder blades and keeping him as close as it was physically possible. Daryl was muttering something in a soothing voice, and it took Rick an embarrassingly long time to decipher the words.   
“I gotcha, Rick. ‘s okay, I gotcha…” whispered over and over, like a mantra, the words flowing soothingly right into Rick’s ear. It was only after Rick took stock of his body that he realized his incessant trembling.

He uncurled himself a little, feeling calm for the first time since his heat had started, and blinked up at Daryl.

Daryl’s eyes were wild. His usually expressive blues swallowed up completely, black and smoldering hot, staring at him with that alpha-something in them that Rick had previously seen only with Shane. It sent a spark through him, an electric shock going through his insides, and Rick felt a bit of slick seeping out of him. He fought hard not to cringe.

Knowing that Daryl’s alpha was running the show now, grateful at how in control Daryl managed to remain still, Rick tentatively reached between them. He could feel Daryl’s hard cock pressing against his belly, hot and heavy against his own spent one. He could sense raw energy vibrating from his mate, the sexual high that took away Daryl’s stoicism and made him twitchy. Rick wanted to do something for him, the omega inside his own head almost purring in its need to bring pleasure to his alpha.

With his mind a bit clearer after his release, Rick wrapped his fingers around Daryl’s length, squeezing around the base where he could feel the slight bulge. Daryl jerked and moaned, head falling forward, resting on Rick’s shoulder. His hips snapped jerkily, fucking into Rick’s fist, his body mindlessly seeking pleasure. Rick started to move his hand, biting his lip when he realized that Daryl started to mouth at the bite mark which had bonded them together. It tingled and felt strangely warm, a little spot on his skin that was now almost as sensitive to touch as his cock.

Tilting his head back a bit, Rick let his mate nibble and suck on the mark, shivering when his own body responded to the touch, cock twitching in a valiant attempt at getting up again. He kept on moving his hand, feeling proud at every little twitch and jolt that went through his mate.

It didn’t take long at all. Daryl had already been too worked up, so a few pulls later, when Rick twisted his hand a little around the head and dragged it down in one tight motion, Daryl came undone. He growled, muffling the sound into Rick’s shoulder, biting into the bonding mark again, spilling between them. Rick could feel it when Daryl’s knot started to swell, and he brought his hand around it, squeezing tightly. He wanted to make Daryl feel good… his inner omega wanted to make the alpha feel good.

Daryl _whined,_ then turned into a boneless, shivering mess above him, weighting Rick down and practically smashing him against the mattress. Lying on top of him, Daryl gulped in stuttering breaths, as his whole frame shook with faint tremors. Rick was surprised that he didn’t feel trapped, but he decided to go with it, keeping his fingers tight around the knot, listening to Daryl’s wild breaths. Each and every one of them was laced with a small whining noise, and Rick smiled, turning his head and kissing Daryl’s ear.

They stayed like this until Rick’s hand started to cramp and he had to release the hold. Daryl startled, then drew away, blinking rapidly down at him, before he sat up. Rick shivered at the cold air around them, grabbed Daryl’s hand and tugged him back down. He could read panic in Daryl’s eyes - his mate probably only now realizing just how much he had let himself go. Rick didn’t like it at all. He was well aware that heat could make the both of them lose their grip on reality for some time - to tell the truth, it wasn’t that difficult in the heat-induced haze. When the hunter positioned himself on Rick’s side, moving tentatively as if not to scare him, Rick scoffed, then tucked himself against his mate’s chest, pressing as close as he could.

It took them a silent half an hour to calm down enough for Daryl to crawl out of bed, and come back with a warm, wet towel. He passed it to Rick, sitting down on the bed and waiting until Rick cleaned himself up, staring pointedly at the floor the whole time. Rick wiped his front quickly, then hesitated for a moment - he could feel his ass still being slick, and somehow, it felt just _wrong._ Gritting his teeth, Rick reached behind himself and quickly dabbed the wetness away. He passed the towel to Daryl, who gave himself a quick wipe and threw the towel on the floor. He crawled back on the bed and settled next to Rick.

The comforter being tugged from under them and back over their bodies went unnoticed by Rick, too exhausted by his heat to do anything, besides nodding off with one hand wrapped around Daryl’s waist and his face pressed into Daryl’s neck.

 

-&-

 

When Daryl came to, he was lying on his back with Rick wrapped around him. Rick’s body was sleep-heavy and hot, the weight of it pressing Daryl down to the mattress. He shifted a bit, trying to get more comfortable without waking his mate, but Rick stirred with a small groan. His hips shifted forward and his hard cock rubbed against Daryl’s hip, dragging a startled gasp out of the hunter. Rick’s head shot up, confused eyes blinking up at him blearily, before Daryl pushed a hand into his hair and tugged him down for a kiss.

Rick went for it happily, all pliant limbs and soft lips, quickly turning the kiss messy. Daryl could feel him shiver, the heat undoubtedly clouding his mind once again, but something was different this time - it seemed to run on a more basic level. By the time they broke apart for some much needed air, Rick was rutting rhythmically against Daryl, tiny moans escaping him every now and then.

Feeling bolder, seeing how his mate’s body twitched and jerked, Daryl skimmed one hand down Rick's back, stopping just short of his ass. Rick only pressed himself closer to him, pushing his face against Daryl’s neck and mouthing at it, his tongue coming out to lick the sensitive skin. The touch was electric, and it sent pleasure sparkling down Daryl’s spine. He was already hard - there wasn’t an alpha that would be immune to being immersed in omega’s pheromones. Hearing Rick hiss against him, with Rick’s hands scratching at Daryl’s stomach unthinkingly, with Rick’s cock smearing precome all over his hip bone, Daryl decided to act finally.

He rolled them around until Rick was on his back, blinking dazedly at him, eyes dark and fiery, even if only half-open. Daryl dove in for a quick kiss, then crawled down, licking his way over Rick’s chest. He traced Rick’s pectorals, then moved to the side just to nibble along his ribs. Rick groaned, arching his back, hips jumping up and rubbing his hard length against Daryl’s stomach. The hunter smiled up at him, skimming lower, dipping his tongue into Rick’s navel, listening to the gruffy moan of anticipation.   
“Dare…” Rick sighed out, fisting his hands in the sheets. Daryl hummed, moving to the side, laving at Rick’s hip bone with his tongue, only to slide it down, to the sensitive part of skin where thigh meets groin. “Please…”   
“Shh… I gotcha,” Daryl soothed, placing a kiss on the head of his cock.

Rick’s hips rocked up, mindlessly seeking more, and Daryl couldn’t really help himself. He leaned in, licking and sucking along the hard length, groaning at the taste. Rick’s scent was all around him - it made him dizzy and sent liquid fire pooling low in his abdomen. He mouthed at Rick’s cock, swirling his tongue around the head, before he opened his mouth and let it slip inside.   
“Jesus… _Fuck!_ Daryl…” Rick growled, then bit his lip. Daryl glanced up at him, only to find his mate staring back, eyes wide. Daryl hummed and slid his mouth lower, taking more of the length in. Rick’s dick was lean, but long enough to give Daryl something to work with. He wrapped his hand around the part he couldn’t fit in his mouth, twisting it around just to make Rick buck up with a gasp.

After a few moments of gentle sucking, Rick parted his legs further, getting more comfortable. A different kind of smell hit Daryl then, more musky and decidedly sweeter. He pulled off of Rick’s length, hand picking up the rhythm. He reared back a bit, then dipped his head lower, mouthing over Rick’s balls, sticking his tongue out to taste the skin behind them. Rick trashed on the bed, his cock throbbing in Daryl’s fist, so the hunter did it again. The mewl that left Rick’s mouth was positively sinful, and Daryl slipped one hand down his own body, wrapping it around his leaking cock and giving it an apologetic stroke. He would have time to get himself off later, his omega was far more important right now.

Tantalized by the heady smell, Daryl got an idea he wanted to test out. Still jerking Rick off with one hand, he shifted, bringing his tongue between Rick’s cheeks, licking a long stripe up. The whine Rick gave him when he passed over his opening was almost as good as the taste of his slick. Daryl was ready to go for it again, when he felt Rick’s legs tightening around him, a panicked noise bubbling up in Rick’s throat along with a raspy whisper.   
“Don’t!” Rick hissed out, his wide eyes troubled when they stared at Daryl.   
“Okay, alright,” Daryl soothed, moving higher again, shouldering Rick’s legs apart to make some space. He ran his free hand on the inside of one thigh, mentally scolding himself when he felt it trembling.

“Rick… I won’t… hey,” Daryl murmured, turning his head to the side and kissing the pale knee. Rick took a deep breath then forcibly relaxed. His cock was still hard in Daryl’s grasp, so he gave it a few luxurious strokes. “I won’t, okay?” He assured, thinking hard.

Daryl knew that omegas’ biology was slightly different and that they needed prostate stimulation during the heat - otherwise sex was like scratching an itch through a woolen jumper… it mostly made matters worse and left them feeling more desperate. An idea came to him and he crawled up Rick’s body, propping himself on his free hand and hovering over his mate.

“Rick…” Daryl prompted, waiting until his mate looked at him. He took his hand away from Rick’s cock, tearing a groan of displeasure out of him, then placed the hand between Rick’s thigh and groin. He rubbed his fingers soothingly over the delicate skin there, still staring into Rick’s eyes.   
“Dare…”   
“‘m not gonna touch yer ass, ‘kay?” Daryl stated, waiting for Rick’s nod, before he slid his hand lower. He never broke their eye contact, keeping Rick anchored, slowly inching his thumb just behind Rick’s balls. “Like this, alright?” He asked quietly.

Rick licked his lips, then closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath.   
“Yeah…” he whispered, relaxing a bit.   
“Okay…” Daryl nodded to himself, drawing a small circle with his thumb. The slide was easy, the mix of Rick’s slick and his own saliva still present, and soon, Rick’s body uncoiled a bit. Taking it as a good sign, Daryl pressed on the spot a bit, trying to find the right place, until Rick’s lips opened on a silent “ah!”

Daryl smiled and leaned in, pushing his tongue into Rick’s slack mouth, kissing him deeply. He picked up a nice rhythm, which had Rick’s back arching clean off the mattress and his hands shooting to Daryl’s shoulders for purchase. When his hips started to rock up again, Daryl broke the kiss.   
“Touch yerself,” he panted out, feeling Rick peel one hand away from his shoulders. He glanced down just in time to see it wrap around Rick’s flushed cock. Encouraged, Daryl pressed his thumb in harder.   
_“Oh god!”_ Rick hissed, the hand that was still on Daryl’s shoulder traveling up and tangling in Daryl’s hair. Rick tugged at it reflexively, throwing his own head back with a gasp.

One more press of Daryl’s thumb and he was _there,_ spilling come all over his stomach, body jerking as if he’d been electrocuted. Daryl kept on rubbing, stilling his hand only when Rick uncoiled and landed back on the bed, boneless and spent. He drew his hand away, brought it to his mouth, licking the thumb and moaning at the taste. He felt drunk on Rick’s scent, the heady flavor of it hitting him right in the soft spot.

Pulling his hand away, he grabbed his own straining length, stroking himself quickly. When Rick realized what was going on, he reached down and sneaked his own fingers between Daryl’s legs. He played with his balls for a few seconds, rolling them around in his palm gently, until a stuttered out moan told him that Daryl was close. The fingers shifted then, going around Daryl’s knot and squeezing tightly.

Daryl came so hard he thought he would black out. He whined through his release, trying not to collapse down on Rick when pleasure overtook him. His come splattered wetly over Rick’s stomach, adding to the mess already there. After he had milked his cock dry, Daryl lied down on his side next to Rick, his trembling body not cooperating with him any longer. He expected Rick to let go of his dick now, but his mate surprised him.

Rick kept his hand wrapped tightly around the knot, squeezing it harder from time to time, making Daryl’s hips buck helplessly at the stimulation. Alphas were capable of coming a few times - provided the circumstances were right - and Rick seemed intent on seeing Daryl do just that.   
“Rick…” Daryl whispered, breathless. Rick turned to face him, hand still on his cock, the other slipping underneath Daryl’s head and bringing him close.   
“You need it, too,” Rick murmured, tightening his fingers again. He sounded a lot more coherent now, the heat easing off for the time being. Daryl made a noise between a whine and a mewl, then hid his face in Rick’s neck.

“Come on,” Rick prompted, his voice a low rumble, and hesitatingly, Daryl brought his hand to his length again. He fisted it around the head, jerking himself off lightly, hissing at how sensitive he felt. It didn’t matter, another orgasm was building inside him once more, and not a minute later, he was coming again. Release trickled out of him slowly, his whole body burning when his muscles tightened then relaxed. Rick held him close, mumbling something into his ear, but all Daryl could make out was the soothing tone of voice.   
“Rick,” he croaked out, letting go of his cock just to wrap his arm around Rick’s waist tightly, prompting Rick to do the same.

“‘m sorry fer that,” Daryl mumbled into Rick’s shoulder. “Didn’t wanna - ”   
“It’s okay.”   
“Didn’t wanna hurt ya,” Daryl went on. Rick sighed, leaning back a bit, groping around for the discarded comforter. He found it, pulled it over the both of them, before settling back down again.   
“You didn’t hurt me… it felt… nice,” Rick almost whispered the last word. Daryl frowned so hard Rick could feel it against his own skin.   
“Then why…”   
“I couldn’t stand it.” Rick swallowed heavily. “It feels wrong like this. After Joe…” Rick trailed off, shaking his head. Daryl was silent for a long moment.

“‘s not wrong,” he murmured finally, arms tightening around his mate. Rick shifted a bit, getting more comfortable, scrunching his nose when he felt come drying up on his stomach.   
“I just…” Rick took in a long breath, then exhaled, slowly. “Even getting _wet_ feels bad, now… after Joe fucked me, it’s all wrong,” he mumbled, curling up, hiding his face in Daryl’s chest. The hunter just stayed silent, listening to it, running one hand up and down Rick’s arm soothingly. If Rick wanted to talk, he’d listen, even if it cost him a tooth of two after gritting them too hard.

“It hurt so much…” Rick shivered at the memory, and Daryl had to count to ten to calm down enough to remind himself that those bastards were all dead. “But that wasn’t what was worst about it. I tried to pretend that it didn’t happen, you know? Push myself and just carry on. I’ve had worse, after all. At the beginning? I was shot before the apocalypse started. That’s why Lori was with Shane in the quarry. That bullet had been a lot worse…”   
“Ya were in a hospital, right?” Daryl reminded him, and Rick nodded. He knew why Daryl mentioned it. _Maybe it was worse, but the conditions were better._

“Yeah. Still, I could get through the pain…” Rick swallowed heavily again, hard enough to make his throat click. “I was ashamed,” he whispered, barely audible. “Ashamed of what happened. Of the blood on my jeans and of the way I couldn’t move without wincing.”   
“Nothin’ to be ashamed of,” Daryl protested. Rick nodded.   
“I know that. Didn’t stop me from feeling it, though. You’ve all seen it. Then the nightmares started… Every time something reminded me about what had happened, I had to tell myself that you were there and that I was safe… And the pregnancy…”   
“‘m sorry, Rick.”   
“No… _Thank you,_ Daryl. I wouldn’t have survived that without you.” Rick leaned back just to look at Daryl, a slow meeting of eyes, before he tucked himself against his chest again. “But now? I feel fine, and I know you won’t hurt me… But some parts of me… it… it just feels _disgusting._ I don’t know why.” Rick’s body shook with a silent laughter, but Daryl could hear that it was completely mirthless.   
“Nothin’ ‘bout ya is disgusting,” he said, bowing his head and placing a kiss on Rick’s wild, messed-up curls. “Won’t try that again, though. Ya have my word.”   
“Thank you,” Rick sighed out, then closed his eyes.

Feeling surprisingly lighter, he felt himself drifting off. Daryl’s arms were still wrapped securely around him, their combined scents working as a soothing smell of _home_ and _love,_ and Rick decided to worry about cleaning up when he was more rested.


	22. Never want to put my feet back down on the ground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! This is the last chapter and the epilogue. Thank you for all the support, your comments and some interesting debates! I hope you enjoyed reading it and till the next time! <3 <3 <3

They had woken up in the night for a languid, sleepy handjob - Rick’s heat was demanding enough to keep them awake until they were both sweaty and panting in the afterglow again. After taking the edge off in the shower, Rick felt good enough to eat something light, so Daryl wandered out in search of a very early breakfast. The sun was barely raising on the horizon, its pink hue painting the sky in abstract tones, and Rick stared at it through the window, waiting for his mate to come back from the kitchen. 

He couldn’t stop his laughter when Daryl walked back with a tray - a can of peaches, some herbal tea with weird leaves still in the glass, and a bottle of water. The hunter hesitated seeing his mate’s laughter, and Rick bit his lip, his expression turning soft.    
“Come ‘ere,” he patted the spot next to him, prompting Daryl to sit down. 

Daryl did, handing him the tray and crawling onto his side of the bed, stretching his legs next to Rick’s under the covers.    
“Where did you get those?” Rick asked, eyeing the open can, licking his lips. Peaches were about the only thing that they had eaten over and over in the apocalypse that he wasn’t fed up with. They were running low on them, too, being away from their beloved Georgia.    
“Maggie’s pantry.” Daryl shrugged saying this, looking down at his hands. Rick gaped at him.    
“You stole peaches from Maggie?”    
“Ya wanted somethin’ light. ‘sides, she has like ten of ‘em. No idea what they’re up to, but Glenn’s been busy…”   
“Clearly.” Rick shook his head, but he couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through him. 

“And what’s this?” He asked, picking up the tea and taking a sip. The taste was weird, very herbal and not something he was used to. It was good, though.    
“Yarrow,” Daryl replied. “Helps with fever… not sure if it’ll help ya with the heat, but ‘s worth a try…” 

Rick felt the warmth in his abdomen spread through him like wildfire, until his whole body tingled. He fished one peach out of the can and put it into his mouth, humming at the sweet taste.    
“Want some?” He mumbled around the fruit, but Daryl shook his head.    
“Already had some.”    
“Water?” Rick prompted, shaking the bottle at him.    
“‘s fer ya,” Daryl said, and Rick frowned. Tea  _ and _ water? Daryl must have seen his confused expression, because he explained it a moment later. “In case ya didn’t like the tea…” 

Rick froze. He blinked once, twice, then put the bottle back on the tray. Slowly, not to spill anything, he twisted around and placed the tray on the nightstand. With his hands free, he turned back to Daryl.    
“I love you,” he breathed out. Daryl opened his mouth to say something, but Rick didn’t give him a chance, diving forward and smashing their lips together. 

As it turned out, romantic gestures from one’s mate only stoked the fire of an omega’s heat. The breakfast had to wait another half an hour. 

 

-&-

 

Rick’s heat lasted for two more days, and they barely left their bedroom until it was finished. Daryl had been out sometimes, especially when Rick was sleeping off the exhaustion, but it was always for a short time and only to keep tabs on their family. On the third day, he told Rick that he had a serious talk with Carl. The only thing that stopped Rick from wincing was Daryl’s hand stroking over the nape of his neck soothingly. 

Rick couldn’t help but berate himself that he should have been the one to have  _ that _ talk with his son. Daryl informed him that Carl had known quite a lot on the topic already and Rick wasn’t sure if he should be glad or worried. He settled on the first, keeping it in mind to run a few proverbial checks on the kids in Alexandria. The internet wasn’t a thing anymore, after all, and Carl had to have gotten the knowledge  _ somewhere… _

Lying next to Daryl, cuddled up in his warm embrace and, being able to think more clearly at last, Rick couldn’t help but compare his mate to Shane. The heats he had gone through back then had been all about fucking, almost as if Shane couldn’t have stopped himself. With Daryl it was more…  _ intimate, _ somehow. They spent most of the time hugging and kissing, sharing body heat and reveling in their mixed scents. It was only when Rick’s hormones became unbearable and his organism demanded some attention that their gentle kisses turned deep and passionate. 

They had tried everything Rick felt comfortable with, even fingering Daryl - at the alpha’s insistence - while sucking him off. True to his word, Daryl hadn’t tried to touch his ass again, finding other creative ways to bring Rick pleasure. Daryl was so different from what Rick was used to regarding alphas, that he had been constantly surprised… in a good way. The biggest surprise came when Rick realized that Daryl hadn’t even once mentioned having babies or any of the other sexist crap that had spewed from Shane’s mouth every time he had knotted Rick. 

He couldn’t find words to express how grateful he was for that. He was pretty sure that he wouldn’t let Daryl  _ touch him _ ever again if he had heard something like that. 

Thankfully, Daryl had remained his gentle, attentive self, and now they were here, sated physically and emotionally, cuddled up together in the early morning, listening to the birds chirping just outside the window.    
“How are ya feelin’?” Daryl gruffed out, stretching. Rick smiled at him softly, turning to the side to face him.    
“I’m good… better than good. You?” He asked.  Daryl smiled, something delicate and rare, reserved only for Rick.    
“Love ya,” he murmured in lieu of an answer, then leaned in for a sweet kiss. Rick hummed, angling his head to deepen it, but Daryl drew back.    
“Nah, need to shower,” he announced, dragging himself out of bed as if staying in it a bit longer would end up in another tumble in the sheets. Rick grinned, then crawled out, too, following him into the bathroom.    
“Wait!” He called after Daryl. “We should save water!” 

 

-&-

 

Much later, after they made themselves presentable and ate a proper breakfast - freshly baked bread, Carol’s courtesy - they wandered out, intent on finding Deanna. They had a walker problem that needed to be discussed, after all. It was a high time, too, god knew those trucks wouldn’t hold on for much longer probably.

They found the town’s leader in her garden, sitting in a plastic chair, staring at a bush of red roses.    
“Take a seat,” she said, instead of greeting them. Rick nodded and they took two of the spare chairs standing around, plopping down heavily. “Well?” She asked, eyeing them. Daryl looked at him and Rick cleared his throat.    
“We have a problem,” Rick started, glancing at Deanna. She was just sitting there, silently telling him to go on. “There is a quarry nearby.”    
“Yes. I know about it. It’s on the maps.” She nodded.    
“‘s full a’ walkers,” Daryl joined in, voice gruffy. 

Deanna’s eyes widened, her jaw tightening.    
“What?” She asked, her gaze shifting from Rick to Daryl, her brow furrowing. “How many?”    
“Hundreds,” Rick said, leaning forward, putting his elbows on his knees. “They’ve been falling in there since the beginning, I guess. Or somebody lured them in there… I don’t know.” He sighed.    
“Are they a threat?” Deanna asked, and Rick nodded.    
“They come out, they walk right ‘ere. Take this place down ta the ground,” Daryl pointed at his feet. 

She fell silent after that, deep in thought and looking at the roses. Rick and Daryl waited, knowing she needed some time to process this.   
“Reg planted it,” she said after a while, nodding at the blooming bush, eyes melancholic. “He wanted this place to be home for us… wanted it to be safe.”   
“He made it safe,” Rick reminded, “he built the walls around us.”   
“And now they’re not enough anymore.” Deanna turned her gaze to him. She looked as if she had decided something.   
“There’s always gonna be something coming. Another danger. Another threat,” Rick stated calmly. “We _have to_ be ready for it…” 

“Reg used to say that, you know?” She said, smiling up at him unexpectedly.    
“He was right,” Daryl gruffed out, and Rick nodded along.   
“I know.”    
“Rick’s right, too.” Daryl added after a second or two of silence. This time, Deanna laughed.    
“I  _ know.” _ She turned to Rick. “You are a good leader. You know what you’re doing. You have my permission to do whatever you think is necessary, Rick.  Keep this place safe… it’s yours already.” She leaned forward, then placed her palm on Rick’s fingers, squeezing softly. 

For the first time in forever, Rick didn’t feel the need to back away. 

They said their goodbyes, and went to gather their group, especially Glenn and Abraham. They needed to form a good plan to get rid of the walkers in the quarry. 

 

-&-

 

“Okay so… any ideas?” Rick asked the room after sketching out the layout of the quarry. The sheet of paper was laying on the table, his family gathered around it, bowing their heads over it.    
“We could draw them out,” Abe said, Rosita nodding along.    
“Get them away from the place,” she agreed, pointing the road on the improvised map.    
“Isn’t it too risky?” Glenn opposed. He trailed his finger down the line, pausing when he reached Alexandria. “If they get loose, we don’t stand a chance…”    
“Got a better idea?” Daryl eyed him, then shook his head. “Nah, this ‘s good. We jus’ need ta figure out how ta keep ‘em away from the town.” 

“Life bait,” Tara said from behind them. Rick whirled around, blinking at her.    
_ “What?”  _ Rosita asked, rolling her eyes. Tara shrugged.    
“They’re stupid. They go after food. If the food can move, then the food can lead them away,”  she explained, coming closer and taking a free chair. “Let’s put people into cars and drive them slowly, leading the walkers like carrots on a stick.”    
“Yeah,” Abe stared at her, his ginger moustache twitching. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan!”    
“You’re welcome!” Tara grinned. 

“Can do it ‘ere.” Daryl tapped the map, and Rick looked down. The place was wide enough to fit a few cars comfortably - an old parking lot, most probably. “I take mah bike. Need two people in a car. Posts in case shit goes wrong…” he glanced at Rick. “It’s doable.”    
“I don’t like you going on your bike,” Rick protested, suppressing a nasty shiver. He didn’t want Daryl driving in front of the herd in general, especially a herd as big as this one.  But to have him on his bike, without the protection of doors and windows around him? 

Daryl tugged him to the side gently, getting them a few steps away from the group.    
“Someone’s gotta be able to un-ass quickly in case of trouble,” Daryl reasoned. Rick just gritted his teeth. “Hey.” Daryl prompted, waiting for Rick to look at him. “Ya know I’ll be fine, right?”    
“Yeah.. I just…”    
“I know.” Daryl reached out and rubbed one hand down Rick’s shoulder quickly. He wanted to hug his mate, but having their whole family right next to them stopped him. 

Rick shook his head distractedly and gritted his teeth. He didn’t like it, even though he knew that Daryl was right. Exhaling sharply through his nose, he marched back to the table.    
“Alright. Let’s call a town meeting.” 

 

-&-

 

Epilogue

 

-&-

 

Time flew by, and almost a year later barely anyone remembered about the huge herd that they had had to face back in the quarry. The plan hadn’t been prefect, but the circumstances had forced their hand in it. Thankfully, it had all ended well - minor hiccups notwithstanding. 

“Hey,” Daryl greeted him as soon as Rick stepped into their bedroom. The hunter had been out on a recruiting run with Aaron for three days, so seeing him back in one piece made Rick’s heart sing.    
“Daryl.” He grinned, walking closer, humming happily when his mate tugged him down on the bed for a sweet little kiss. Rick was wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist, his curls still damp after the lazy shower he had just taken. Daryl pushed his fingers into them, tugging slightly just to make Rick shiver. 

They had settled together during their time in Alexandria. Little gestures and soft lips quickly became their favorite language - they used it in the broad daylight and the dead of the night alike, communicating without words like they always had done. Rick had become more confident in bed, trusting Daryl to know his boundaries. In turn, Daryl did everything he could to take care of his mate, from languid kisses to waking him up from another nightmare.

“Tired?” He asked Rick, breaking the kiss and lying back down on the bed. Rick huffed out a laugh, sitting on the edge of the mattress.    
“I planted a whole new section, next to the fence…”    
“What did ya plant?”    
“Strawberries,” Rick grinned, then crawled over Daryl and to his side of the bed. They still slept in the same spots, with Daryl closer to the door.  _ In case of emergency, _ Daryl had said a few times. Rick didn’t argue, knowing deep down that Daryl did it only to make him feel safer. 

Daryl’s gruffy chuckle followed, then he turned to Rick.    
“That garden of yers ‘s gonna run ya into the ground,” he joked.    
“Tell me about,” Rick winced, one hand going to his shoulder, kneading at the tense muscles.    
“Want some help?” The hunter asked. Rick raised an eyebrow. “Open the drawer.” 

Prompted by his mate, Rick reached out to the bedside table, opening the drawer. There, nestled between a pack of tissues and Daryl’s hunting knife, was tucked a little bottle. Rick picked it up, reading the label.  _ Lavender and rosemary massage oil. _ Rick’s eyes widened, his mouth falling open.    
“Where did you get this?” He asked, surprised. He had told Daryl once - back in the prison - that he absolutely loved both, lavender and rosemary. The confession had been a very drunk one and it had been prompted by a conversation about air fresheners and their uselessness in the apocalypse. 

Daryl smiled at him, that rare smile that he kept private and for-Rick’s-eyes-only. Rick unscrewed the bottle and brought it to his nose, taking a long inhale. It smelled  _ amazing. _ Grinning, he reached with one hand to close the drawer, when a box caught his attention. It was small and rectangular, painted in abstract colors, and it barely weighted anything when Rick took it into his hand. He brought it to his lap, then blinked down at it.  _ Condoms.  _   
“Why?” He rasped out, feeling Daryl shift on the bed next to him.    
“Yer heat’s gonna come again eventually,” Daryl explained.    
“You know I can’t - ”    
“I know.” Daryl interrupted him. “I know. ’s not like that. If ya wanna try…  _ ever, _ we’re gonna need ‘em.” He shrugged, looking down. “I ain’t gonna risk putting ya through  _ that _ again, even if ya wanna try it out jus’ once,” he added quietly. 

Rick swallowed hard, nodding. Even after all the time spent together, it melted his insides to see Daryl being so considerate and protective of him. He put the condoms back into the drawer and closed it. What he didn’t see, was an even tinier box stashed deep at the back. It was white and had two pills inside. Daryl had found it on a run with Aaron about two months ago. He knew that Rick wouldn’t probably need them anymore, given his aversion to all matters concerning anal sex. He had taken them anyway - all condoms were more or less expired now.  Rick was more eager to experiment a bit now, even going as far as to letting Daryl touch his ass every now and then. Anything even close to actual penetration was still off the table, but Rick  _ was _ healing. Daryl couldn’t bring himself to think that, had Rick wanted to try something more, he would have been at the danger of getting pregnant again. He had taken the pills with him, pushed them into the furthest corner of the nightstand, and moved on. 

Rick’s groan of discomfort tore Daryl out of his thoughts. He glanced to the side, seeing Rick settling on his front with the towel still wrapped around his hips. Rick’s bare back, still pale despite all his work in the garden, was a thing of beauty. Daryl didn’t waste any time getting his hands wet with the oil and pressing them to his mate’s tired muscles. 

Rick’s relieved sigh was loud in the quiet room. He could feel himself relax more and more with every swipe of his mate’s broad palms. Daryl worked his way down the tense back, rubbing his fingers right next to Rick’s spine, then settling lower and kneading at a particularly touchy spot, Rick hummed, wriggling a bit in place, accidentally pressing his ass into Daryl’s groin. He could feel the stirring hardness there, poking him into the right cheek. Rick smiled.    
“Ain’t ya supposed to relax?” Daryl rasped above him, and Rick’s smile turned into a full-blown grin.    
“You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours,” Rick said, not bothering to hold his laughter at bay. Daryl’s groan was full of exasperation, but there was a certain kind of fondness to it that wrapped around Rick like a warm blanket. 

He still felt paper thin sometimes, but he knew he was safe in Daryl’s hands - he was sure that they could survive the end of the world… together.


End file.
